Of Loves Lost and Friends Past
by tervaco
Summary: COMPLETE When Terrence brutally assaults Mac, its up to Frankie and the gang to help, but who is the new man in the red headed caretaker's life? Spend Thanksgiving and Christmas with the Fosters as they face drama, love, angst, and all that good stuff.
1. Her Friend

Disclaimer: I don't own anybody except Chris. Everyone else is owned by Craig McCracken and Cartoon Network, so no flames.

Of Loves Lost and Friends Past

Chapter 1: Her Friend

Mac sat on the front porch of the aging Victorian house. He was wrapped in his red coat and shivered as he watched the snow continue to fall. It had snowed all day. He wondered where the red head was as he took one last look at his watch. It was 9:45 and he had to be home before 10:15 or else his mom would be on his back again.

"Where is she?" the eight year old thought standing up.

Almost as if his words had summoned her, Frankie Foster walked through the front gate of the Foster Estate. Her fiery red hair seemed to glow in the moonlight as she approached. There she was, the girl of his dreams hanging on some other guy's arm. She laughed and he smiled and Mac felt something twist inside of him. Who did this guy think he was? He had no right!

"Well, good night, Frankie," the bespectacled man said.

The twenty-two year old red head looked into his eyes with a serious look, "You don't have to go," she told him, "This was your home for so long and… and it… it still is. Come on," she explained tugging him closer to the home.

Mac was flabbergasted, 'His home! Who the heck is he!'

That was when Frankie noticed their audience. She turned to face Mac and the look on her face became sorrowful and full of worry. He still had those feelings for her and here she was with a guy her own age, laughing and inviting him to stay. Mac didn't even know the truth, but…

Mac didn't stay. Throwing his backpack over his shoulder he stormed down the walk pushing past the two adults and through the gate. How could he have been so stupid? Of course she wouldn't return his feelings, she had fourteen years on him! It was just some stupid schoolboy crush, only instead of falling for a singer or an actress he fell for the Foster's heiress. Stupid! He'd never forgive himself for acting like that.

Staring after the boy, the two adults stood stunned. If everything Frankie had told him about Mac was true, then what heck was this? Was he jealous for some reason?

"Come on," he said leading the red head down the walk, "we can't just let him walk home in this, it's getting worse!"

She couldn't agree more, but in her heart she knew the boy wouldn't listen. He felt betrayed.

Mac rounded another corner half-running half-walking trying not to lose his balance. He still had another mile to go and the snow had started falling harder. The moon had disappeared behind thick clouds and the street lights were the only thing lighting his path. The street was eerily silent and he kept looking around feeling slightly worried by the silence. In the back of his mind he kept replaying what he had just seen and heard and every time he got to the end he got angrier. How could she!

Somewhere behind him he thought he heard someone calling his name, but he chalked it up to his imagination and the wind, which made him hurry just a little more. The sooner he was home the better… at least he would have something else to worry about when he got there.

He looked at his watch and saw that it was 10:13, he had just two minutes to get home. He had no choice, but to run. He could worry about stopping when he got there and if he fell it wouldn't compare to the punishment he'd get from his mom.

He finally made it to his block and had just to cross the street, he was only four minutes late, maybe his mom would let him slide. He stepped between the cars and prepared to run across, but as he reached the center of the street he lost his footing and flipped landing hard on his back. He moaned as his eyes tried to adjust and his hearing cleared enough to hear what sounded like a car. He slowly turned his head and saw that it was a car, but he couldn't get his footing. He was stuck on a patch of black ice! His eyes went wide as the car slammed on its brakes…

Mac shivered as he sat in the back of the ambulance wrapped in a blanket. He couldn't stop shaking. Everything had happened so fast and now… now she was laying there, her blood covering the street. The bespectacled man was being held back by a police officer as the EMT's worked on her doing absolutely everything they could to stabilize her enough to move her.

"Frankie!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.

Mac couldn't believe it, one of her dates actually cared about something other than sex? He looked over to the car and saw another police officer handcuffing the driver. The car's front end was smashed against a row of cars lining the street and the man had a cut on his forehead and blood was running down into his eyes. He kept yelling something about not seeing her before it was too late and she jumped out in front of him. The EMT's approached the ambulance with Frankie laid out on a gurney. She didn't look good from what Mac could tell and when they got her locked down they gave Mac a shot to help him sleep.

When he woke up he was laid out in a hospital bed with a bandage wrapped around his head and monitors making beeping noises all around him. Nothing was hooked up to him which was a relief, but his relief soon turned to horror. In the bed next to his was Frankie. Her head was wrapped too, not to mention her left eye, arms and legs. Underneath her hospital gown Mac could see more bandages. She looked like a mummy with casts. There were wires hanging from her mouth and nose and machines that were helping her breathe. It hurt to look at the once beautiful red head.

In a chair in the corner of the room sat the man from last night. His glasses were crooked on his face as he woke up to see the eight year old staring at him.

"So you're awake, huh," he asked in a kind voice.

Mac nodded as the man pulled his glasses off and twisted them back to their original form and placed them back on the bridge of his nose.

"She's the reason you're still here, you know?" he asked standing up. "She saw that car coming, but she jumped out to shove you out of the way knowing full well she'd be the one that got hit."

Mac stared at him, scared at what he would say next. Would he blame Mac for what had happened? It was his fault wasn't it?

"I'd give anything to be the one in her place right now. I would be too if I hadn't slipped," he paused taking a deep breath. "I lost my balance and by the time I was up on my feet she was already at your side."

The young boy looked at the woman lying next to him and felt tears welling up in his eyes. She cared enough to risk her own life saving his.

"If I had just been a little faster, if I hadn't slipped…she wouldn't be like this right now," the man said sitting down on the edge of Mac's hospital bed.

The man looked at the boy and Mac could see the pain in his deep green eyes. He really did care about Frankie, but… Mac still didn't know who he was. For that matter he didn't know why the man would have risked his life to save the boy either.

The man extended his hand and said, "Sorry, in all the confusion I forgot to introduce myself… I'm Chris… Frankie's imaginary friend."

To be continued…

There, I did it! Angsty enough for all of you out there? This will actually be the first story I have written that doesn't involve fighting some big bad monster or any fighting at all for that matter. Hope you like it.


	2. His Story

Of Loves Lost and Friends Past

Chapter 2: His Story

"I'm Chris…Frankie's imaginary friend."

Mac couldn't believe it. There was no way that could possibly be true, he was human!

"I know what you're thinking right about now," he continued, walking over to Frankie's side and taking her hand in his, "but this is the way Frankie made me. I look human, act human, heck, I even age like a human, but I'm really an imaginary friend."

Mac still didn't believe him. He'd never before seen an imaginary friend who looked human. They acted human, had human traits, but nothing like this. Frankie must have an extremely intricate imagination, the little boy decided.

Frankie was still as Chris held her cold hand. He cringed as he looked over her injuries. Had he just been a little faster, just a little, he could have gotten Mac out of there and none of this would have ever happened. Frankie wouldn't be lying here fighting for her life and…

"Uhhhhh…" came a weak moan.

Chris' eyes shot open as Frankie's hand grew slightly tighter in his. Mac was at her side in a flash as the twenty-two year old slowly and weakly opened her right eye. The left side of her face was bandaged and made it difficult, but she managed a smile. It was weak and brought a tear to their eyes, but it was a smile none the less.

"Frankie?" Chris asked his voice full of hope.

She tried to speak, but nothing would come out. She could only moan and the tears began to fall. Chris started calling for a nurse as Mac reached up to take a look at Frankie. She smiled warmly as he looked into her eyes. She was happy to see him?

"Frankie, I am so sorry," Mac started as he hugged her with tears pouring from his eyes, "I shouldn't have run off like that…"

Frankie slowly shook her head. She wouldn't blame him, she couldn't. He had run off before she could explain. She then looked over to Chris. He wore a weak smirk and he was unsuccessfully fighting back tears as a nurse ran into the room pushing past him.

"Miss? Miss, can you hear me?" she asked checking Frankie's vitals.

She nodded in response to all of the nurse's questions. It was the best she could do. Finally, a doctor walked into the room and began to pull the curtain around Frankie's bed. Chris was left staring at the white wall until a pair of arms erupted from within holding Mac. The man took Mac into his arms and carried the boy over to his own bed as the curtain was pulled tight again. They looked each other in the eyes and then back to the curtain. They could hear the doctor asking questions, the same questions the nurse had asked, and they could hear the sounds of cutting and tearing. Apparently the nurse was changing Frankie's bandages.

"Do you think she'll be okay?" Mac asked.

Chris nodded his head unable to come up with a good answer. He felt sick with worry and dread. He couldn't lose her, not after all this time. The room felt too small and the air felt thick and heavy. He needed to get out and get some fresh air. He needed to be anywhere but here. Mac was feeling the same way Chris did and asked him if he could get him out of there. The bespectacled man nodded and dug the boy's clothes out from under his hospital bed.

As the two left Frankie's room, Mac saw Wilt, Coco, Eduardo, and Bloo stretched out over some chairs. Madame Foster and Mr. Herriman were off to the side talking to the doctor. The smile on the older Foster's face told them it was good news

A few minutes later the pair walked out of the hospital and into the crisp cool air. Mac was dressed in his usual khaki pants, a thick red jacket, and a grey beanie. Chris stood four feet over him dressed in blue jeans and a black hoodie. The snow had stopped falling and the sun started to peer through the thick clouds over head. Mac could hear Chris muttering something to himself, but he couldn't make it out.

The two stood just outside the emergency entrance to the hospital. For what felt like hours they just stood there, never saying a word until finally Mac asked about Chris' true origin.

"I told you, Mac, I'm Frankie's imaginary friend," he restated, "I was thought up about sixteen years ago on a lonely night."

Mac turned to look at him.

"Her parents were out having dinner and her babysitter was asleep on the couch. A thunderstorm had started outside and the rain was pouring. Now I don't know how much you know about Frankie, but she used to be terrified of thunder and lightning, so she wanted a friend, someone who she could be scared with and that was when I made the scene," he stopped taking a breath. "At first she didn't know what to make of me. I wasn't like Wilt or Uncle Pockets, but I had been imagined. And I couldn't have asked for a better creator. Frankie needed a friend and so she made me, only I was like her. I looked like a six year old, but the interesting part didn't start until we realized that I aged like her. When she grew, I grew, as she got older, I got older, and right up until high school we aged the same. After that, well I kinda became what you see right now."

The young boy was still wary of believing the man's story, but if what he said was true then Frankie was an exceptionally gifted young lady. But still, if he was an imaginary friend, he had to be able to do something that a normal human couldn't, right?

"I know that look," Chris said taking a step forward, "There is something I can do no one else can, but it's based upon my mood and condition. My eyes have a way of changing color. Normally they're a light green, but when I get sick they turn grey and if I get angry… well, they turn red and glow. Don't ask me why, it was something Frankie wanted I guess. Beyond that you just have to take my word for it."

Mac watched the man as he kneeled down and pushed his hand into a pile of untouched snow. He lifted his hand out leaving an imprint and then drew a curve under it with his finger. Stepping back, Chris smiled, seemingly remembering a moment from his past.

"It was something Frankie and I used to do. It was sort of like our symbol," the older man explained sticking his hands in his pockets. "Speaking of explanations, how do we explain this to your mom?"

Mac turned away and kneeled down. How **did** he explain this to her? Did she even know where he was? Did she even care?

"Mac?" Chris asked kneeling down next to the boy, "You okay, buddy?"

Mac didn't answer. How could he? His mom and brother didn't seem to care that he was in the hospital and hadn't come home. They were probably happy about it. For one thing, Terrence would be happier not having a baby brother around. But what about his mom, didn't even care anymore?

"Hey," Chris said turning Mac to face him, "I'm sure they care they just thought that since you were with us that you'd be fine."

This didn't do anything, but make Mac feel even worse. His brother hated his guts, everyone knew that, but why didn't his mom come? Did she know he was there? The thought brought tears to his eyes.

The older man didn't know what to do, especially when the eight year old wrapped his arms around him. Chris assured Mac it would be okay as he returned the hug.

"Everything'll be fine, Mac, I promise," he said in a kind voice.

In truth, nothing would be fine. Frankie would have to spend another week or two in the hospital. She had broken both legs and her right arm. She had been extremely lucky that was all she broke. Still it would be a long time before she was back to full strength. Mac, on the other hand, was grounded and forbidden from going to the Foster's home for a month. His mom didn't seem to care that he had nearly been run over. All she cared about was that her rules had been broken. Chris swore he wouldn't let anyone adopt Bloo while Mac was on lockdown. He had managed to win Mac's trust through his actions over a period of less than twenty-four hours.

It took time, but things returned to some semblance of normality. At least as normal as life could be without having Mac around for a month and having Frankie wheelchair bound. It was an incredible thing, but Bloo actually seemed to calm down quite a bit. It wasn't easy, but Chris and Wilt were able to cover for Frankie as much as possible. Things weren't done quite as well as when she did them, but it was the best they could do and Frankie didn't mind having time to sit around and heal. Of course her injuries didn't keep a certain five foot rabbit from commenting on her "lounging" about.

"Look, Long Ears," Frankie said in the sternest voice she could muster, "the doctor said I need to get as much rest as possible, but because I can't stand not having anything to do I'm still up before the rest of the house, I still help with cooking everyone's meals, even if I am just the tray that delivers them, and I still do my chores, with a little help from everyone else, so don't you dare accuse me of shirking my duties, got it!"

Herriman was taken aback by the ferocity of her response, but when Madame Foster told him to lay off the girl he did as he was told leaving Frankie alone with her thoughts in the foyer.

"I miss Mac," she thought out loud. "I miss my legs and I can't wait to get out of these stupid things!" she yelled scratching at her leg with a ruler.

Her casts made it impossible to scratch her itches and unfortunately, casts tend to itch a lot. The sound of approaching footsteps made her spin and nearly fall out of her chair. She hated that stupid thing even more than the stupid things on her legs! She had no control over it and it made moving not only difficult, but a risk.

"Hey, Frankie, you in here?" a voice called out.

It was answered with a loud crash followed by a string of curses. Chris ran into the foyer to see Frankie had toppled her wheel chair.

"Need a hand?" he asked smugly.

The icy stare Frankie returned was followed by something he had forgotten, "You're such a dick."

She used to say that to him every time he did something to annoy her, but she hadn't said it since they were fourteen. She said she had out grown it, but he always knew it would come back someday.

Frankie felt like a sack of potatoes as he lifted her into his arms and fell backwards. Her leg casts made lifting her awkward and he exhaled deeply as she laid on top of him staring through his glasses into his eyes. The blood rushed to her cheeks as she giggled.

"What's so funny?" he asked, less than amused.

"Do you remember the last time we sat like this?" she answered his question with another question.

Rolling Frankie over so she could sit up he mused, "Weren't we still wearing footed pajamas?"

She burst out laughing as he gave her a puzzled look.

"You're probably right," she said as he lifted her up to her chair.

"You know, it wasn't that long ago, probably sometime in high school," he finished adjusting her legs so she sat comfortably.

Frankie looked away to hide the blushing. She remembered the last time he held her like that almost like it was yesterday, but she'd never admit to it. Chris dusted himself off and then started down the hallway pushing Frankie along. They didn't speak. They didn't have to.

The pair made their way to Frankie's room where her desk had been made over into a dinner table with soup, a chicken breast, bread, and a glass of Coke. Chris placed her just far enough from the food that she couldn't reach it and laughed as she grabbed desperately for it.

"Come on, come on, this isn't fair!" Frankie pleaded, "I wanna eat!"

He sat down next to her and grabbed a fork with a slice of chicken and brought it right to her mouth.

"Ahhh," he said waving the fork in front of her face.

Her icy stare returned, "You're gonna feed me like a baby!"

"I was told to help you in anyway possible, so to reduce the strain on your delicate, yet beautiful body, I'm going to feed you," he answered, not realizing what he had said, "and its not like a baby, I'm just helping out a dear friend."

Frankie blushed and bowed her head. Did he realize what he just said? Probably not, he was a goof.

"Alright," she said pulling his hand closer to take a bite.

It was delicious, so juicy and she couldn't help, but moan.

"Glad you like it," Chris said smiling.

To be continued…

Here's the second chapter and probably the last one you can expect for awhile. I have a lot coming up with classes and all plus I have another fic I'm working on. Well, anyway hope you like it!


	3. To See Her Face

Of Loves Lost & Friends Past

Chapter 3: To See Her Face

Mac had been on lock down for close to three weeks now and it was starting to get to him. Terrence lorded this over him the same way he did for everything else. The boy just wanted to see his friends, the only friends he really had. He entered his room nursing his newest black eye and threw himself down on his bed.

"How can she just ignore this?" he asked no one in particular.

In recent months his mom had all but told him she didn't care about him anymore. After the accident, she didn't even visit him in the hospital. She grounded him instead. When Terrence started pummeling him after school, his mom turned a blind eye. She really didn't care anymore did she?

His door flew open, "Well, Twerp, mom's working all night, so guess what that means?" Terrence asked pounding his fist into his open palm.

The beating didn't have any meaning anymore. Terrence just did it to do it. Mac picked himself up off the ground with tears in his eyes. It's not that it hurt, he just didn't understand why his brother hated him so much. Was he really just a mean, hateful brat or was there some reason he felt the need to torture his younger brother?

"Doesn't…matter," Mac sputtered as walked to the bathroom.

His nose was gushing blood and one of his front teeth had been knocked out. This was the first time Terrence had actually held him down and bashed him in the face like that and Mac was afraid it wouldn't be the last time. He turned the sink on and took a handful of water, burying his face in it. When was this going to stop?

Out in the living room Terrence plopped down on the couch like nothing had happened. He was having so much fun he didn't know what to do with himself. That was when he looked down at his hand and saw the cut from Mac's teeth. That little freak cut him! No way was he getting away with this!

The eight year old had just closed his door when it was once again kicked open to reveal a furious Terrence. The pimple faced teen's face was full of hate and his words dripped with venom as he told Mac what was about to happen.

Terrence was on the boy in a flash, pounding as hard as he could, kicking, punching, biting! Nothing was enough to sate his appetite for pain. The body of his little brother bent and twisted and cringed with each hit and the boy screamed in agony. Was this it? Was this how it would end, killed by his jackass brother?

"NO!" Mac yelled as Terrence fell over exhausted. "No more!" the boy screamed reaching up onto his desk.

His little hand grasped the metal lamp Frankie had given him and he swung as hard as he could with it. A loud snap rang through the air as Mac continued to swing the desk lamp at his brother. It fell from his hands as he looked over his handiwork. The thirteen year old boy lay sprawled out on the floor nursing cuts and bruises and sobbing. Mac's first hit had broken Terrence's jaw and the rest put the older boy into an unconscious daze.

Mac could barely see through the haze that had set in. He was shaking as he stepped back. Coming down from an adrenaline rush was one thing, but this was something else entirely. He looked down at his brother and then walked to the front door. He wasn't sticking around for whatever happened next. His brother would never lay another hand on him.

---------------

Chris was standing out on the Foster's front porch watching the snow fall. This was one of his favorite times of the year. The snowy season, when you could walk out into the cool night air and be surrounded by nature and silence at the same time.

"Whatcha thinking 'bout?" Frankie asked, nibbling on one of her grandma's cookies.

The bespectacled man turned to her and smiled warmly, "Just how much I love it here. This was my home, after all."

The red head wheeled her way to his side and grabbed his hand. His hands were always warm and tonight was no exception. Frankie smiled as his grip grew tighter around her hand.

"This brings back some memories, doesn't it?" she asked.

"Yeah, except I don't remember you ever being a gimp," he remarked laughing, "in fact, if I remember right, I was usually the one wrapped up in bandages and band-aids."

Frankie squeezed tighter at that last remark, "I am not a gimp!"

---------------

It was just a few more feet, he assured himself, then he'd be safe. No more Terrence, no more beatings, he'd be with his friends, he'd be…

The laughter sailed through night air and told him he was there. He just had to call out, just say her name, just…

Mac didn't finish his last thought. It had taken everything in him just to get that far. Now, there was nothing left. He was cold, tired, hungry, and hurt. The snow felt cold and refreshing as he fell. Maybe that cold release wouldn't be so bad.

"What the hell…?" a voice said in surprise.

"What? What is it?" another asked

Mac could feel his body being rolled over.

"Oh my God, Mac!" Chris exclaimed in surprise. "Frankie! Get inside and call an ambulance!" he ordered while lifting the boy out of the snow.

Frankie stared at him in surprise and utter horror.

"Frankie?" he called, "Now!"

--------------

Mac once again awoke to the sound of beeping. This was the second time in a month he had woken up in a hospital. He tried to look around, but it hurt too much to move his head. There was a pinching feeling in his left arm and something tied tightly around his right. His vision was still hazy as someone suddenly appeared in his sight.

"Hey there, pal," a soft voice came. "Can you hear me?"

The young boy sounded out the word yes, but nothing came out. He couldn't get the words to escape his mouth. Why? What was wrong? Why couldn't he move?

"Its okay, pal, you're safe now," the voice came again, but this time it was accompanied by a hand holding his own. "You're with friends and no one's gonna hurt you ever again."

His vision started to clear as the person finished that sentence. It was Frankie, she was by his side, promising him he would be okay. She was holding his hand. Frankie, the girl of his dreams, was holding his hand. Mac felt like he was going to melt. This was heaven, he hadn't felt this good since she kissed him all those months ago.

"Hey, bud," Chris said sitting down on the other side of the bed.

'And there it goes,' Mac thought.

"Alright, the doctor will be right in to take off your neck brace, hopefully then you'll be able to talk and we can sort through all this," he finished.

Mac looked at him and watched as Chris looked away. Chris stepped away as the doctor walked into the room. Oddly enough, it was the same doctor that had worked to save Frankie. His face was old but kind and his thick glasses hid blue eyes. He had grey hair, but he still acted like a man in his twenties and he joked as he talked to Mac.

"Well, little buddy, I think it's safe to take this off," he said carefully lifting Mac's head and undoing the clasp on the neck brace. "And now that that's done, how 'bout filling us in on what happened?"

Mac sat up. He looked first to Frankie then to Chris and the doctor.

"Mac?" Frankie asked smiling and taking his hand again, "You can tell us, pal."

Mac looked down at his bed sheets and sighed. The tears were already starting to well up in his eyes. How could he tell them this? They'd think he was a wuss?

"Mac, its okay, you can tell Frankie," Chris said leaving the room with the doctor.

"Well?" she asked nicely.

----------------

Outside in the hall, Chris watched Mac tell Frankie the story. Bloo slid up to him and grabbed his pants leg, tugging for attention.

"What's up, Bloo?" he asked never taking his eyes off the boy.

The little imaginary friend looked up at the man, "Is Mac gonna be okay?"

That got Chris to look at him, "Yeah…he'll be fine, now that he's here with us. Apparently Terrence did this to him."

"How do you know, do you have psychic powers?" the blue blob asked.

Chris looked back through the window, "No, I'm reading his lips. Its something Frankie taught me how to do. His mom was at work and Terrence went ape and tried to kill him. Looks like he Mac got in a few punches though."

"How do you know that," Bloo asked.

Chris pointed down the hall towards a blonde woman dressed in a blue day suit and a certain thirteen year old in a plaid pull over shirt and jeans. His mouth was wired shut and he had sutures over most of his cuts.

"That's a good look for you, Terrence," Chris said as the mother and child approached.

Terrence tried to yell a comeback, but all he could do was moan. His mom wasn't too pleased with Chris' choice of words either.

"How dare you! Who do you think you are?" she demanded.

"Simple, I'm the one who's gonna ensure you and metal mouth here never touch Mac again," he said sternly.

The doctor had reappeared with several security guards who told her she was being taken into custody pending investigation into Mac's injuries. The once quiet hospital was now filled with screaming and cursing as Mac's mom was placed in handcuffs and dragged down the hall.

"If you wanna keep your head, I suggest you go with her," Chris said glaring at the teen.

Bloo looked up at Chris and backed away. There was an air of pure rage surrounding him.

"Sorry, Doc, but…" Chris tried to apologize.

"Say no more, lad, if you hadn't said something, believe me I would have," the doctor said knocking on Mac's door.

-----------------

Mac walked through the front door of Foster's and was greeted by three of his favorite friends. Bloo walked in behind him carrying one of his bags followed by Frankie and Chris.

"This is your home now, Mac," Madame Foster said walking down the stairs.

"What?" the little boy asked confused.

Frankie wheeled her way up behind him and lifted the boy into her lap, with a little help from Chris, "You're gonna be staying with us while this whole mess gets sorted out. You're family, pal, you didn't think we'd let them stick you in some foster home with people you don't know, did you?" she explained.

Tears welled up in his eyes again as he hugged Frankie tightly. The friends who had gathered around for his homecoming started cheering and Mac felt truly happy for the first time in ages.

"Home," he said as Frankie returned his hug.

To be continued…

Be here next time as the court battle for Mac begins. Will he get to stay with the people he loves or will he be forced to return to the family that doesn't want him? Also, where has Chris been for the past eight months? Why haven't Mac or Bloo ever seen him before? And why do all the friends at Foster's hold him in such high regard? And as a last little tease, what happens when one of Terrence's dreams produces an imaginary friend? Check back in soon for drama, lawyers, romance, and a fight the likes of which you've never seen!


	4. The Coming

Of Loves Lost & Friends Past

Chapter 4: The Coming

Mac closed the door as Chris and Frankie left him to his thoughts. He had a lot to contemplate. Apparently there would be a trial to see who would get to keep him and whether or not his mom would go to prison. Chris had said something about criminal…negligence? It didn't matter, Mac was among friends that loved him and would do anything to protect him and, dare he say it, he was home. He was finally home.

His room was in the East Wing along with Madame Foster, Mr. Herriman, and Frankie. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. The carpet was so soft that he would sink in a little bit as he walked, there was a big bed with warm covers and thick pillows, a desk covered in get well soon cards, a huge window with a balcony, he had never had a room this big!

And on the night stand closest to his bed, Mac found something that warmed his heart. It was picture of him and Frankie hugging. The picture had been taken a while ago, after her date with that creep Dylan, when she just wanted to have him around. He closed his eyes as he fell back onto the bed, holding the picture.

"Frankie," he said softly before dozing off.

------------------------

"You know he still has a crush on you right?" Chris asked as they stopped at her room.

"I know," she answered.

"You don't think he'll get over it, do you?" he asked another question opening her door and pulling her inside.

Frankie looked up at him as he put the brake on her wheelchair and lifted her up into his arms. He had been taking care of her like this ever since the accident. He never complained, he never whined, it was like he enjoyed getting to take care of her. She looked away as he laid her on the bed and pulled the sheets up to her waist.

"He will," she responded, trying to hide her red cheeks, "he just needs to find the right girl."

Chris smiled as he sat down at the foot of her bed with his back to her. Frankie wanted to say something to him, for him to comfort her the way he used to when they were kids, but for now, she was just happy to have him by her side.

-----------------------

Bloo slinked down the stairs the way he always did, but stopped short when he noticed something. He took a step closer to the picture wall and saw what appeared to be a younger Frankie, but she wasn't alone. There was a boy with her and she was…kissing him? What the heck!

"Wilt! Wilt!" he screamed tearing the picture from the wall and searching for the lanky friend.

----------------------

"Madame, I must protest!" Mr. Herriman proclaimed.

"Oh pipe down, Funny Bunny," the older woman replied hopping into her chair.

"But Madame, if we allow both caretakers a day off who will complete the daily chores? They are not Master Wilt's job and I have other, far more important duties to attend to!" the rabbit came back.

"Well, I suppose I'll just have to tell my granddaughter, who was hit by a car, and her friend, who hasn't had a decent night's sleep since the accident, that they can't have any time off because you have chores for them," Madame Foster answered sarcastically.

"But, Madame…" he pleaded.

The older Foster raised her hand, telling Herriman she wouldn't hear anymore, "Those two don't get but four months out of the year to spend time together. I won't force them to spend that time working, do you understand me?"

The well dressed rabbit straightened his monocle, "Yes, Madame, as you wish."

"Good, now do it for me again," she said laughing.

"Do I have to Madame?" he whined.

"Herriman…" Madame Foster answered sternly.

Mr. Herriman began prancing about singing his creator's favorite song as she clapped and laughed.

-------------------------

"Sorry, Bloo, but you'll have to ask Frankie about that," Wilt said taking a handful of popcorn.

The blob hopped up onto the couch, forcing himself between Wilt and Coco, "What do you mean you don't know? You've been here for years, how could you not know!" he demanded.

The red, googlie eyed friend looked at his chum and replied sternly, "Just because I've been here for a while doesn't mean I haven't been adopted before," he paused, "this just happened to be taken while I was away."

The little friend looked at the picture again and was shocked that Frankie would kiss such a geek. He had glasses and he wore a collared shirt and around his neck hung a yin-yang necklace, jeez, what a loser, he thought hopping up off the couch.

"Well, if you don't know, who would?" he asked stepping out of the living room.

"Frankie or maybe Madame Foster," Wilt replied taking another handful of popcorn.

With that the little friend was gone, determined to find the story behind the picture.

-------------------------

The boy fell into a dark room surrounded on all sides by doors. Each had a Roman numeral and held his worst fears. He'd been here before. The boy backed away as one of the doors started creaking. Something was pounding on it from the other side and it sounded mean.

"What's wrong, Terrence?" came a hauntingly familiar voice, "Afraid of the dark?"

The pimple faced boy leaned back against the opposite wall only to be launched forward by a powerful blow. An evil laughter filled the room as he crashed to the ground and one of the doors opened.

"No," he said backing away in horror, "it's not possible!"

The creature that stepped through resembled someone he knew only more nightmarish. Its piercing red eyes glowed behind red locks of stringy hair. It had chains wrapped around its right wrist and leather straps around the other and its hands were big and dirty as it reached for him.

"Go on, scream, no one will hear you! You chased away anyone who could help you!" it declared grabbing the boy by the throat and lifting him high into air.

Terrence looked down at the thing and finally recognized it. It couldn't be, not him!

Suddenly there was a wet feeling and the boy sat up screaming. He was back in his bed, but it was soggy and smelled. Looking down, he realized he had wet the bed. He hadn't done that since…

There was something in his room staring at him through the darkness. Those same piercing red eyes, that same evil laugh.

"Now then, where were we?" it asked lunging at him.

-------------------------------

Chris pulled the sheets up over her. Frankie had finally fallen asleep. She looked so peaceful. The man bowed his head as he walked to the door. Why hadn't he been faster? Why did he have to slip? She never should have been hurt, he told himself turning off the light and closing the door.

He leaned back against it and slid to the ground. The accident kept replaying over and over in his head. Frankie's body bouncing off the front end of that car and crashing down into the snow. The blood, her eyes piercing his soul, it all stuck in his mind. He should have been the one. It should have been him.

He sat at her door reliving the tragedy unaware that just down the hall a pair of innocent, young eyes watched him. Mac looked on as the man picked himself up off the ground and made his way down the stairs.

The boy closed his door and walked over to the desk in the corner of his room. There were get well cards from just about everyone, including a really big one signed by his closest friends. He wanted to be happy that all these people cared about him, but he couldn't. His eyes welled up as he curled up in a ball on the floor and cried. His family, his real family didn't want him, and here he was surrounded by imaginary friends that others didn't want. Is this what they felt like? Was this the pain they all suffered through? He laid there sobbing until sleep's warm embrace took him.

Outside his window, it had begun to snow again. The moon was covered by thick clouds, but some of its light shined through and lay over the boy. He was like them now. This was his home.

Chris stopped at the foot of the stairs and looked through the window above the front door. The snow brought a smile to his face. Maybe he just needed time to think, maybe if he went out for a while he could clear his head. Behind him stood Wilt. He didn't make a sound as Chris opened the door and let the cold air flow over him.

"Its pretty cold out there," he said announcing his presence.

"Yeah," was all Chris could say.

Wilt walked over to the man and rested his hand on his shoulder, "You know its not your fault."

"I should have been faster," he said pulling away from Wilt and stepping out into the night air.

The big red friend stepped out after him closing the door, "You can't blame yourself for this, there was nothing you could have done."

Chris bowed his head thinking.

"You weren't fast enough, fine, but you can't dwell on that. It happened and the best thing you can do now is stay by her side and make sure nothing ever happens to her again," Wilt continued. "She needs you to be strong for her and for Mac."

Mac. The boy's image filled Chris' mind.

"Mac needs you and the rest of us to be there for him, to protect and love him. We're his family now!"

"You're right, Wilt," Chris finally said. "I won't let him down, the way I did Frankie."

Wilt couldn't believe what he had just heard, "Let down? Let down! You didn't let Frankie down, Chris, you did the best you could! She got hurt, but you stayed by her side and now you're her arms and legs, you take care of her better than yourself! How can you say you let her down?"

The man turned to look at the friend and the look in his eyes made him seem like the little boy Wilt used to know. Kneeling down to look into Chris' eyes, Wilt pulled him into a tight embrace.

"You didn't let her down, you did the very best you could and that's all that matters," the friend said assuredly.

Chris went wide eyed. That was the same thing he had said to Wilt six years ago after he lost his kid. He returned the embrace and then stepped back.

"Thanks," Chris said looking Wilt in the eye.

"Anytime," the tall friend replied standing up and walking back to the door, "Now no more blaming yourself, right?"

Chris turned back to look out over the front yard, "I'll do my best."

Wilt smiled and walked back inside.

---------------------------

The day of the trial was fast approaching and the members of the inner circle at Fosters were getting antsy. Madame Foster was going to attempt to become Mac's legal guardian while Frankie, Wilt, Bloo, and Chris were testifying against Mac's mom and Terrence. They had to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that Mac wasn't safe with his mom and that she let things happen that she could easily have prevented.

At the same time, there was good news, Frankie's arm was nearly healed. The doctor called for her to come in and get one last x-ray on her arm. If it was healed she could have the cast off that same day.

In foyer Chris paced back and forth. He was extremely nervous about the trial. He had never been in court and more so he hated talking in front of big crowds of people. He just hoped he did enough to keep Mac safe. That was all that mattered at this point.

"Alright, Chris, time to spill the beans," came a squeaky voice from behind.

He spun to see none other than Blooregard Q. Kazoo standing before him.

"What's with the get up, Bloo?" he asked trying to suppress a laugh.

Bloo wore a Sherlock Holmes style hat, Mr. Herriman's monocle, and had a bubble pipe hanging from his mouth.

"You know Herriman's gonna be pissed you took his monocle," Chris added.

"Never mind me, let's talk about you," Bloo responded stepping forward, "you and this picture tell a very intricate story that I for one demand to know."

Chris took the picture and looked at it. A big smile filled his face as Bloo watched.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"Bloo, are you digging through my past because of this picture?" Chris asked handing it back to the little friend.

"Maybe, or maybe I just want to make sure you aren't dangerous," Bloo answered puffing on his fake pipe.

"Dangerous? Bloo, I am not dangerous, maybe a little unlucky or oblivious, but not dangerous. Besides, that's a just a picture of me and Frankie at her eleventh birthday," Chris explained, "Its just a kiss on the cheek, nothing to make a big deal about."

"A big deal? Of course it's a big deal, you're trying to put the moves on Mac's girl!" Bloo blabbed.

Chris laughed at that, "Mac's girl? I don't know who you've been talking to, but Frankie and Mac, they aren't dating, 'sides she's got fourteen years on him. That's just wrong, not to mention illegal and immoral."

Bloo gave a puzzled look.

"Alright, let me explain in a way that even you can understand," he said taking a breath, "Frankie and Mac can't be together because they're just friends, its against the law for anyone over the age of eighteen to have a relationship like that with a minor, and Frankie would never risk her future like that. That's all, and as far as me putting the moves on Frankie, you're crazy. I'm her imaginary friend and that's all."

Bloo looked at him, then back at the picture, and then back at him, "Yeah, but…"

"I was wearing something she picked out for me and got excited that's all," he said walking to the center of the room.

"Alright then, answer me this, where have you been all this time?" the blob asked.

"Oh I can't tell you that, its top secret G-14 classified, and I'd have to kill you if I told you," Chris laughed.

Bloo's jaw dropped to the ground, "Then you **are** a spy!"

Chris spun to look at the tiny investigator.

"Don't be stupid, Bloo," Mac said entering the room.

He looked much better than before. His black eye was almost gone and the nose was healed. The bruises that had covered him were faded, but he still whistled when he spoke because of his missing tooth.

"Chris has been at his college campus, isn't that right?" he said matter of factly.

"Not bad, Mac, who told you?" he asked confirming the statement.

"Its sort of obvious, but Wilt told me," the boy answered, "you go to school down in Florida and you only get to spend two months here for November and December and then two more for July and August, the rest of the time you're there."

"Yup," he said, "So now you know, happy Bloo?"

The little blob shrugged, "And here I thought you had some cool mysterious secret."

With that the blue blob slinked away. Mac looked over to Chris and apologized for that.

"No problem," Chris said going back to pacing, "how you feeling?"

The boy walked up to Chris and stepped into his path, "I'm fine."

Chris stopped and looked at the boy, "So then, what's up?"

Mac didn't know what to say. Should he ask about the trial or maybe about Frankie?

"Whatever's bothering you, you know you can always tell me, right?" Chris asked.

The boy looked up into Chris' eyes, "Thank you."

With that he walked out after his imaginary friend leaving Chris alone in the huge room. The man looked around at the empty room and then up at the ceiling. This was one of his favorite rooms, just a nice big place to think, among other things. No, he was just coming up with reasons not to think about the trial now. He had to get his testimony straight, he couldn't afford to mess this up.

--------------------------------

Terrence walked down the street towards the home. He had to get his bearings straight if he was going to do this right. There it was, he thought as he stepped in front of the big cast iron gates. About thirty yards of open ground between him and the house. Within its thick walls and numerous rooms were his targets. Now all he had to do was get to them.

"Soon," he said laughing as his eyes glowed red, "Very soon."

To be continued…

Okay, so, the fight isn't gonna happen for a while, but I will get to it, its just that I promised you all a fight you'd never seen before and so in order to give you that I need some time to set up for it. Also the trial will actually be in the next chapter so there's that and oh… what does everybody think of Terrence's new imaginary friend? Hope you like him because you're gonna be seeing a lot more of him in coming chapters. A slow chapter, but I managed to fit some of Chris' life into it and I managed to use Wilt and Bloo as more than just back ground characters, so go me. Well, that's all for now, later.


	5. This Is It

Of Loves Lost & Friends Past

Chapter 5: This Is It

"Ms. Foster, please state for the court, in your own words, what you witnessed on the night of November 14," the social services lawyer asked.

Frankie was dressed in a black day suit. Her right arm was finally out of its cast, but her legs still needed time. She reached up, almost gleefully, with her right arm and pulled the microphone down.

"I was at home, out on the porch when Mac showed up," she answered.

"Alright and what was his condition?"

Frankie took a deep breath remembering what the lawyer had told her to say, "Mac was severely beaten. His face was a pulp and he was covered in blood, I assume his own."

Several members of the jury shook their heads in disgust. This was a very important case and it was also a heinous one. The trial had just started, but already people were feeling uncomfortable. Mac was the first person to take the stand and many were teary eyed as he finished telling the tale of his many encounters with Terrence.

The lawyer's name was Sasha Gorden. She wore a black skirt suit and spoke with a slight accent. In the days leading up to the trial she had done her best to prepare Mac and the others for what they might experience, but even with preparation, being up on the stand was a difficult thing.

"Alright, Frankie, you can step down now," Sasha said politely.

Frankie wheeled her way past the stand and stopped next to Chris. He took her hands in his and leaned closer to her, assuring her she had done a great job. He was up next.

He stepped up to the stand and felt his gut clench. This was how it always started, soon he'd be stuttering and sweating uncontrollably.

The bailiff produced a Bible, "Raise your right hand. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you God?"

Chris took a deep breath, "I do."

"Then please be seated," the judge said.

"Alright, Mr. um… what is your last name?" the opposing lawyer asked.

"You can just call me Chris," he answered.

The judge turned to him, "Son, you'll need to state your full name for the court."

"I'm sorry, your honor, but I don't really have one," Chris said turning to the judge.

"Would you care to explain?" the older man asked.

"Well…I'm a uh… I'm an imaginary friend," Chris explained.

"Very well then, Mr. Spencer, begin your questioning," the judge ordered.

To the judge's right, the court stenographer clicked away on her pad. The audience was quiet and yet at the same time Chris could feel them eyeing him up like he was crazy. They didn't believe for an instant that he was imaginary.

"Okay then, Chris, explain to us your relationship to young Mac Burns," the man said.

Chris looked the man in the eyes and saw cold, uncaring eyes stare back at him. The man was short, fat, and balding and his voice was hoarse from smoking for so long and Chris had taken an instant dislike to him.

"I recently met Mac, about two or three weeks ago," Chris said.

"And when you met him, did you see anything…wrong or amiss about him?" Spencer asked.

Chris looked to Mac and recalled how they met, "When I first met him, no I didn't see anything "wrong or amiss" about him, but…"

"Thank you," Spencer said, cutting him off, "And on the night of November 14?"

"It's the same thing, Fran… Ms. Foster said," Chris answered.

"I'd like to hear it from you, if you don't mind?" Spencer replied.

He took a deep breath and cleared his throat, "On November 14, I was sitting out on the porch of Foster's Home For Imaginary Friends, when Mac collapsed on the lawn. Rushing to help him, I rolled him over to see that he had been severely beaten. His face was covered in blood and he looked like someone had really worked him over."

Spencer stood and walked towards the stand with his hands in his pockets, "Have you ever seen Mac like this before?"

"No, I can't say I have, but that's not to say…" he managed to say before being cut off again.

"Well, if you haven't seen injuries like this before, what made you think that Mac needed to be removed from his home?" Spencer sneered.

Chris began to get angry and his eyes flared slightly, "I explained to you that I only just met Mac, but he has told me about things his brother has done to him numerous times and…"

"So, you think he's telling you the truth, that his brother beats him and his mother turns a blind eye?" Spencer interrupted again.

"Well, why the hell would he lie?" Chris demanded as his eyes glowed red.

The judge slammed his gavel down, "I suggest you calm down, son, you'll get a chance to explain."

Chris took a deep breath and closed his eyes, "I do believe that Mac is telling the truth about the way his so-called family treats him."

"Uh huh," Spencer stated turning his back to the witness, "and yet, you have no physical proof, no evidence, no first hand knowledge, that he had been repeatedly assaulted, do you?"

Angrily Chris answered, "No."

"Thank you," Spencer said sitting down next to Mac's mom.

Sasha stood and approached Chris, "So, as you previously stated, you do believe that Mac has been repeatedly abused.

"Yes that's correct," Chris replied.

"And though you yourself have no proof of this, you've been told, not only by Mac, but by others, that there is a history of abuse?" she continued.

"Yes."

"Okay, and you believe that he would be safer if placed in another's care?"

"Yes, I do believe so," Chris answered, steadily calming down.

"Would you please explain to the court why you think Mac should be removed from his present residence?" Sasha asked leaning against the witness stand.

It was obvious Chris was uncomfortable, but now he really started to sweat, "I…I think Mac should be placed in another home because of several things I have both witnessed and been informed of," he stopped to take a breath, "The first thing, several weeks ago, I can't remember the date, sorry, but several weeks ago there was an incident that resulted in Ms. Foster being hospitalized after being hit by a car…"

"Objection your honor, relevance!" Spencer spouted angrily.

The judge looked at him and cruelly stated, "Overruled, please continue."

"Ms. Foster had pushed Mac out of the path of a car. Both had been hospitalized, but despite my calls to the Burns residence, no one came to the hospital to find him except for residents of Foster's."

"Really, even after you called, neither his mother nor brother came or returned your call?" Sasha asked.

"No, there was no contact with either of them until Mac went home. He has told me that his mom didn't seem in the least bit interested in his hospitalization and instead chose to punish him. Mac said she grounded him for a month. Another reason I think he'd be safer somewhere else is because of the repeated beatings he's received from his brother, though I don't have any proof of these," he stopped, looking over to Terrence who hadn't taken his eyes off Chris since his testimony started, "And lastly, when Mac had to be hospitalized because of injuries received, his mom didn't make an appearance until Mac was about to be released. If she really cared about him, she would have been there waiting with the rest of us."

Sasha was impressed, Chris remembered everything they had talked about, "What of the reports that Mac had assaulted his brother with a…desk lamp, was it?"

"Its my personal belief that Mac was defending himself," Chris stated, "He has told me, he just told the court, that if he hadn't done what he did, his brother would have killed him."

"Thank you, Chris, just one last question," Sasha paused looking at her notes and then back up at him, "where do you think Mac should be placed?"

Chris took a deep breath and released it, "I don't mean to sound biased or anything like that, but if Mac should be anywhere it's at Foster's. He's happy there, there are people who care about him, he's practically family."

"Alright, you can step down," Sasha told him.

------------------------

The trial went on for hours as the assembled friends and witnesses told their tales. Wilt and Bloo in particular had stories about having to save Mac from his brother's wrath. The whole time Mac sat between Madame Foster and Frankie, dreading what the turn out would be. Would he get stay with the Foster's or would he be sent back to the hell he called his family? Finally, the trial came to a close. All that remained was the ruling.

"I'm going to call a short recess before ruling," the judge said standing and leaving the room.

Sasha exhaled heavily and turned to Mac and the others, seated in the stands behind her, "Okay, we've done the best we could, all that remains is the jury and judge's decision."

Frankie wrapped her arm around Mac and pulled him close to her. She couldn't stand to have him taken away, not after all they had been through. Especially recently. Madame Foster shook hands with Sasha and thanked her for her help.

Chris and Wilt had stepped outside to get some air. The tall red friend wore the top of a business suit and red tie. It didn't match his sneakers, but they couldn't find a pair of shoes in his size. Chris was in a black suit with a red tie and he couldn't have looked anymore uncomfortable. He scratched at the tie as Wilt told him he had done great. The man looked up at Wilt and shook his hand. They had both done everything in their power to help Mac, now it all came down to this ruling.

Behind them unseen stood Terrence. He could take this chance and wipe both of them out or he could wait to take out the whole lot of them. The muscles in his arm spasmed at the thought.

"No," he said to himself, "Not yet, not until I'm ready."

The bailiff stuck his head out through the doors, "The judge is ready."

----------------------------

Mac stood surrounded on all sides by his friends, hand in hand with Frankie as the jury made their way back into the court room. The judge cleared his throat as the bailiff handed him a slip of paper. The judge opened it and then folded it over and handed it back to the bailiff who returned it to the head juror.

"Madame Foreperson, have you come to a decision?" the judge asked.

Mac's breathing became heavy as she responded, "Yes, your honor we have."

The room was deathly silent as the judge replied, "On the charge of criminal negligence how do you find the defendant Mrs. Laura Burns?"

"We find the defendant, guilty, your honor."

The air sizzled with excitement, they were close.

"And how do you find the second defendant, Terrence R. Burns?" the judge continued.

"For the charge of assault with intent to kill we find the defendant," the juror took a deep breath and let the room tense up, "guilty on all charges."

The audience erupted in cheers and applause at the ruling only to have the judge slam his gavel down hard enough to nearly break it, "Order! Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, thank you, you are excused. Mrs. Burns, please rise," the woman did as she was told, "I hereby sentence you to three years in a minimum security prison. Your sons will be placed in foster homes and the families will have restraining orders against you."

The woman appeared to only care about the jail time she was about to serve as she cursed and swung her arms as the bailiffs removed her.

"Terrence R. Burns, stand up," the judge said angrily, "Now, since you are still a minor, you cannot be sent to a federal prison, but you can rest assured that you will be serving time in a juvenile institution until you are deemed ready to be released back into the public pending a psyche review. I sentence you to five years and five hundred hours of community service. You are going to learn what it means to be a constructive member of society, young man!"

Terrence howled with rage as the bailiffs dragged him off. His plans would have to wait. He'd bide his time, for now, but he would have his revenge. His eyes flared red at Mac as the door was slammed shut.

"Now then, Mr. Mac Burns, please rise," the judge asked reverting to a kind attitude. "You are going to be remanded to the custody of Madame Foster, where you will live for as long as she will have you. Is this what you want?"

Mac looked up at the judge, "Its all I've ever wanted!" he yelled jumping for joy.

"Very well then, Madame Foster, you may take your boy home," the judge finished, rising and then leaving via his entrance.

Behind him he heard cheers and praise as the boy leapt into the arms of his friends and family. They had won. He was finally free of the tyranny of his older brother and mother. He was going to get to stay with the people he loved and who loved him. Together the group, along with their lawyer, made their way down the steps of the courthouse and through the crowd of reporters that had assembled. It would only be one short ride home and then it was all over and Mac could start his new life with his new family.

To be continued…

Ah, got ya! You thought I was gonna put something dark and ominous at the end didn't you? Well, not this time. I thought that I'd give you guys a happy ending, at least for now. Okay, so, Mac gets to stay with the Foster's and Terrence and his mom are going to prison, what more could you ask for? Well, as things are in real life, good things are followed by bad things so be ready for that fight I've been promising you. And what's the deal with Terrence? His imaginary friend is about to make an appearance in a big way, so be prepared. Later all.


	6. Thanksgiving

Okay, thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story. You have all given me a lot of encouragement and I hope I can continue to give you a great story. I'd like to personally thank the anonymous reviewer who has been there since the beginning. I'd like to answer some of your questions. There is a backstory to Terrence's visitor, but I won't be telling it for a while. At least he gets a name in this chapter. The trial scene was a lot of fun to write because I've never done anything of the sort before and it came out pretty well. The part where Sasha the lawyer told Frankie to step down was an accident and I really didn't even realize I'd written it till you told me. I meant no disrespect to anyone who is handicapped and I am truly sorry if I offended anyone. When Chris' eyes shift to red I had this whole thing pictured and I did it as a reference to my favorite X-Man, Cyclops, so you can sort of picture the way they glow. Well, that's all for now, I'll let you get to the story.

Of Loves Lost & Friends Past

Chapter 6: Thanksgiving

The big dinner was two days away and the house was getting restless. Anyone who lived there knew there was one holiday you never missed… Thanksgiving. Frankie had perfected her turkey and her side dishes. Nobody willingly missed her dinner and that made for some hectic times. Especially this year with her injuries limiting her abilities.

"Alright guys, here's the deal," the red head said from her wheelchair, "I will do my best to cook, but you're gonna have to be my hands. Wilt, you and Coco are on stuffing and soup duty, Eduardo, you're skinning, mashing, and baking the potatoes, Mac, you're on veggie duty, and Chris, you're gonna be helping me with the birds."

The group of friends were lined up like soldiers as Frankie passed out orders. She was nervous about this, but they had done a great job with dinner so far, maybe they could pull this off.

"Frankie, what about me?" Bloo whined.

"You, uh…" she paused trying to think of something to keep Bloo out of trouble, "you'll be uh, yeah! You'll be setting the table and giving the entertainment!"

Bloo's face lit up. He was finally getting another chance to show off his skills for the house.

"Thanks Frankie!" the blob yelled speeding through the doors in joy.

Mac looked up at Frankie and smiled. The others set about going over the directions on how to make Frankie's meals. Her methods were very different, but her results were some of the greatest culinary treats you could imagine. Even Mr. Herriman agreed and if he approved of something, you knew it had to be good.

"Frankie, you sure you want my help with the birds?" Chris asked, "I can just barely cook as it is."

The twenty-two year old squeezed his arm, "You've never had me helping you before."

-------------------

Terrence paced back and forth in his ten by ten cell. He hadn't been there for very long, but he was starting to get cabin fever. His newest imaginary friend laid on the top bunk whistling.

"Calm down, boy," it said.

The pimple faced boy looked up and pointed his finger angrily, but stopped. He couldn't think of anything to say. This new friend was different from Red, he was dangerous, as had been proven the night they met.

"We only have to wait as long as it takes you to gain some street smarts and some muscle," it continued. "And while we're waiting, why don't you give me a name?"

Terrence huffed and sighed before he came up with a name, "Red Number 2!"

The friend sat up in surprise, "Are you out of your friggin' mind! You're naming me after that retarded, fruity block!"

The boy bowed his head mumbling. This guy hid himself inside Terrence's body and mind and so he knew everything Terrence knew and he made fun of him for it.

"How about…uh… Blaze!" Terrence yelled in excitement.

"Now that's a name," the newly named Blaze complimented him.

The night guard was coming and it was time for Blaze to go into hiding again. Terrence watched wide eyed as Blaze's body slowly turned to mist and flowed up through the boy's nose.

"Good night, Terrence," the friend's voice rang through his head.

-----------------------

Wilt stepped out of the kitchen and wiped his forehead off. He was sweating like crazy after all that practice. He was nervous about this. If he messed up, Frankie's reputation would go down the drain, at least that's what he told himself.

"Hey Wilt," Mac said sitting at his chair near the head of the table.

He was poking at a slice of chicken he'd been eating for about twenty minutes. He looked a lot better than he had the week before. There were almost no signs of his injuries, except for his missing tooth.

"Heya Mac, how's it going?" the tall friend asked sitting across from the boy.

Mac looked up from his plate, "Not to bad, just a little jittery about this whole Thanksgiving thing. I don't wanna mess it up."

Apparently they were all having the same doubts and fears.

"No, Coco don't!" Chris screamed followed by a loud blast.

The kitchen doors flew open to reveal Chris completely covered in flour with a scowl on his face. Slowly he reached up and pulled off his glasses. His eyes were the only things not covered in flour.

"Coco…" Chris said sputtering flour, "when you use flour, you don't super heat it!" he yelled chasing the bird, tree, airplane thing around the kitchen while the others laughed hysterically.

Coco made her usual coco clucking sound as she hopped over the island in the center of the kitchen. Chris leaped over the island in front of Coco only to land on a randomly placed egg and fly up into the air, crashing down on the ground.

"God, I hate cooking," he stammered as the others continued laughing.

Coco stepped onto his chest and laid an egg before cocoing her way over to the others.

--------------------

Terrence smiled with an evil glint in his eyes. Blaze was right, it was more fun to hurt those that could fight back. It came with a rush of adrenaline fighting those who stood a chance. His bones popped as he twisted his wrist and formed a fist.

"Didn't I tell you?" Blaze's voice rang through the boy's mind.

The boy walked down the hall back to his cell. In his wake were three unconscious, battered, and bloody teens. Terrence couldn't believe how much fun he had beating them to pulps. They had to be three times his size, but his body seemed to almost move on its own and tear into them.

"I can't wait…" Terrence declared jumping onto his bed dreaming of the future.

-------------------

He shot up in bed coated in sweat and breathing heavily. His mind was a flash of images and sounds as he threw open his door and ran to the East wing and barreled through a certain red head's door only to find her sleeping peacefully in her bed. Chris stood there staring at her taking deep breaths and trying to calm down. This was getting old. How much longer were these dreams going to keep on attacking him?

Carefully and quietly Chris closed the door behind him and leaned back against it. How many times had he been here before, following these same actions? Something sat coldly on his clammy bare chest. It was the pendant he'd worn for more than ten years. The yin-yang had been given to him by Frankie's parents before their untimely death and he never removed it. It meant as much to him as Frankie did, it was his treasure.

The images from the dream poured back into his mind. Her eyes, so cold and still, staring at him, through him. The same dream he'd been having ever since that snowy night.

"Damn," he said bowing his head and pushing off the door.

He made his way back to his room and closed his door. He lived in the West wing near the library. His room was a cross between a library and an antique shop. There were two full sized book shelves and each one was full. There were suspense novels, crime stories, horror, action, and even graphic novels, or as he liked to call them, big comics. On his shelves were trinkets he'd collected through the years. His desk held his computer and printer and above that hung pictures of himself and Frankie along with many others. There were pictures from when the two graduated from high school, pictures of him at his black belt ceremony, and a picture of Wilt, Coco, Eduardo, Madame Foster, and Frankie. But his most treasured picture was the one of him and the Foster family.

It hung in the center of the wall and depicted himself and Frankie kneeling down, while behind them stood a blonde haired woman with a warm smile and a red headed man with freckles. To either side of them stood Madame Foster and Mr. Herriman. He and Frankie were just kids in the picture. This was his favorite picture of them too, seeing how it was the only one to depict three generations of the Foster family together.

"Hey guys," Chris said staring at the picture.

He stepped over to his walk in closet and opened the door. Within the closet hung what you would expect to find. Pants and shirts hung from hangers, the only three pairs of shoes Chris owned were on the ground next to his clothes hamper, and his belts hung next to his single red tie.

"What am I doing?" he asked himself running his hand along his shirts. "My body's exhausted, so why can't I sleep?"

His bed was uncomfortable as he rolled around trying to find that sweet spot that might allow him to slip back to sleep. After toiling and tossing for about five minutes he found it. The picture of the Fosters flowed through his mind as it produced another dream for him.

----------------------

Frankie was up at 6 A.M. on the dot. She was trying to get back into her old routine, but the fact that both of her legs were still broken made it a bit more difficult than she expected. Still, she had managed to get hopping into her wheelchair down. Quietly, Frankie wheeled her way down the hall to Chris' room.

Chris was hanging half in bed half on the floor as she entered his room. It was all she could do to stifle a laugh as he moaned. How he could sleep like that, she had no clue, but it made for quite a laugh.

"Chris…" she said melodically, "Oh Chris, time to wake up sleepy head."

His head rolled to the side and he moaned again falling completely out of his bed. He was still asleep, leaving Frankie no other choice but to use the one thing he hated to be woken up by.

"Last chance, pal," she said again waiting for him to open his eyes.

He made no moves this time, content to just lay there. Frankie knew what she had to do as she wheeled her way over to his private bathroom and filled his cup with ice cold water.

"You know you could have avoided this," she told him pulling up next to him.

"I'm sleeping," he responded groggily, not even partly awake.

"Not anymore," the red head gleefully told him pouring the icy water on his bare back.

--------------------

Bloo awoke to a shrill shriek. He had moved into Mac's room now that the boy was a resident of the Fosters mansion. At first it seemed like a dream, but when another one echoed down the hall his instincts kicked in. They weren't the best and they did manage to land him in more trouble than anything else, but he relied on these instincts none the less.

"Mac, wake up," the blob demanded shaking Mac from his peaceful slumber.

The boy rolled over to face Bloo and huffed, "It's 6 A.M., you better have a darn good reason for waking me up."

Bloo grabbed the boy by his wrist and literally dragged him out of his bed to the door. Creaking it, the little friend explained what he had heard.

"It's just your imagination, go back to sleep," the boy said trying to go back to his warm bed.

At first Bloo would have protested, but he had to admit he was really tired. Maybe it was just his imagination and besides no one else seemed to have heard it. The bed was still warm as he climbed back into it and slipped back into his strange dreams of doors and zany antics.

---------------------

Frankie pulled her hand away from Chris' mouth to let him breath. He had reacted a little differently than she had expected. If she hadn't stopped him, his yelling would have woken up the entire house.

"You've got a lot of nerve waking me up that way," he said shivering.

"Well, I warned you," the woman said smugly.

"Oh yeah and I suppose you're fully coherent when you sleep?" he snapped walking into his bathroom and wrapping a towel around himself.

Frankie just laughed. It was always a treat trying to wake him up, but she had to get her kicks where she could. She wheeled over to his desk as the sounds of his morning routine began. Taking a shower, brushing his teeth, applying deodorant and then walking out wrapped in a towel. Frankie actually found herself staring as he pulled fresh clothes from his dresser. Gone was the skinny, wiry body he'd had in high school. He wasn't buff in the least, but he had muscle and Frankie watched him carefully.

"Stop staring," he said pulling a black t-shirt on over his head.

"Sorry," she apologized turning away to hide her blushing cheeks. "You look good."

Chris walked up to her from behind and started walking her out of his room, "Thanks."

What were these feelings and thoughts welling up inside of her? He was her best friend, not to mention imaginary, she couldn't have these types of feelings for him, could she? No, she told herself sternly.

"Sometimes I wish we had an elevator in here," he told her lifting Frankie into his arms and carrying her down the stairs.

The feelings overpowered her and she couldn't help but blush furiously as he carried her. His arms were warm and strong and his eyes…No! Stop it, she demanded. No more of this!

He gently set her down in the loveseat near the front door and bounded back up the stairs to get her wheelchair. Another start to a gloriously hectic day he told himself.

-----------------------

Terrence could feel his body tensing in the early morning. He was changing, starting to shape his body and with time he would prove to be more than most teens could ever make of themselves. Already he was recognized by several of the gangs inside as someone not to mess with. Blaze was having the time of his life watching Terrence tear through anyone who gave him trouble. The boy was downright evil in doling out punishment.

"We'll give it a few more weeks and then we make our move," Blaze said from within Terrence's mind.

"I'm sure I can keep myself otherwise occupied," Terrence responded indicating some of his new found knowledge.

-----------------------

Wilt awoke to the sound of his alarm clock which he quickly turned off. Neither Coco nor Eduardo made a peep as the lanky friend stepped out of bed and out of the room. He entered the bathroom where he went through his morning routine before making for the stairs and the kitchen.

Waiting for him as he entered sat Chris and Frankie. They were laughing about something over a cup of coffee as he sat down.

"Mornin' big guy," Chris said casually passing him a cup of fresh coffee.

"Thanks," he replied sipping at it, "So, what's on the menu for today?"

They were going to the grocery store to get the food. Then they'd start cooking, they would need a lot of time to make enough food for everyone.

-----------------------

It was mid afternoon as the Fosters bus pulled through the gates and up to the front door. The doors slid open to reveal Wilt with his arm filled with three overflowing bags of groceries. The entire bus was nearly filled as he and Chris ran back and forth emptying it. Frankie had rolled to the back of the bus on the way home and was buried somewhere among the many bags of food.

From upstairs Mac watched, peering through the railings. Slowly a long line of friends built up to pass the bags from the bus to the kitchen and finally to escort Frankie and her assistants to there duties. Mac had never seen the house come together like that before and it reminded him of what a family truly meant. They would always be there for each other, never too busy to help out or play, always ready to lend a hand. And now, he was a part of this family.

"Hey Mac," Chris called from the foot of the stairs, "We're about to start cooking, come on down."

Smiling, the eight year old boy clamored down the stairs and into the kitchen where various friends were unloading the bags in the designated areas. One section of the stoves was devoted solely to the soups and stuffing. The ovens were for the birds and the baked potatoes. The last section of stoves and ovens was for the mashed potatoes and veggies.

"Alright everyone," Frankie said drawing their attentions, "thanks for all your help, but now you have to clear out, okay? The kitchen is off limits to everyone, but my chefs until after dinner tomorrow night."

The kitchen emptied out and the group of friends started their preparations for the following night. They would be at it for a while, but at least this would lighten the work load for tomorrow.

-------------------------

It was 11:30 as the group of friends passed through the kitchen doors into the greeting area of the large house. They were all very tired, sweaty, and sore, not to mention they reeked of sweet smells and scents.

"I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm gonna sleep like a log," Wilt stated yawning as he climbed the stairs.

"Si, I'm with you," Eduardo added as he began his ascent with Coco following close behind.

That left Frankie, Chris, and Mac alone as a certain troublemaking blue friend walked up to them singing and spinning.

"Bloo, you feeling alright?" Mac asked.

He stopped and took a deep breath, "I am gonna blow you away tomorrow night!" he exclaimed, "I've got dancing, singing, acrobatics, and more in Bloo's Thanksgiving Extravaganza! I just hope you're cooking doesn't distract people from the real talent."

Mac slapped his hand on his forehead and shook his head. How a mild mannered, shy, and modest kid like him had managed to imagine this, this whatchamacallit was beyond even the greatest scientific mind.

"Good night, guys," Mac said exasperated as he dragged Bloo up the stairs.

Frankie smiled. It was all she could do. If anything, the little blob was amusing and made life at Fosters a little more interesting.

"Good night," the pair said in unison.

Frankie looked up into Chris' eyes as he watched the eight year old climb the stairs. He had really taken a shine to the boy and watched as if he was a little brother.

"You know, I think he's starting to like you," Frankie stated.

Chris watched the boy disappear at the top of the stairs and then turned to her, "I just don't want him to think he's all alone. Someone has to watch out for him."

"Well I think you'd make an excellent big brother," Frankie replied smiling.

Chris had been caught off guard by that last remark. He really cared about Mac, not only because of what the boy had been through recently, but because he was such a sweet kid. It made Chris feel obligated to do whatever it took to keep him safe.

"You really think so?" he asked wheeling Frankie to the TV room.

The red head laughed, "Of course I do, I mean you've always watched out for me like a brother."

Chris just smiled as he lifted Frankie from her wheelchair and set her down on the couch. He had never really thought about it that way, but she was right. He fell back on the couch by her side and flipped on the TV to adult swim just as Family Guy came on.

--------------------------

The morning came fast and brought with it a flurry of snow. The forecaster said that nearly two feet of white powder had fallen through the night. To those who had to work, this was a pestilence, but to the friends at Fosters it was a blessing. Outside many friends had set out making snowmen, but they made them in their own likenesses. They were as many unique snowmen as there were friends.

Near the forest a familiar big, hairy, purple friend quivered trying to stay hidden behind a large boulder. The sounds of battle had stopped, but he couldn't stop shaking. He peered over the top of his natural base only to be bombarded by a hail of snowballs. In seconds the burly friend was buried in a pile of snow and Coco came clucking by laughing. This was the second time today that she had done that to him.

"Coco ca co ca co," she said running off.

Eduardo huffed blowing snow away from his face just as a loud thwap was heard.

"Ha, got ya!" an arrogant voice yelled through the morning air. "Ha ha ha, aahhh!"

Eduardo managed to wiggle himself out from under the pile of snow and looked around the edge of his fort to see Bloo sprawled out on the ground in a daze. Coco stood several feet away holding a snowball-zooka in her mouth. The remnants of one of her plastic eggs lay at her feet.

Wilt, who had been watching this all unfold from the safety of the tree tops took his chance and landed just behind Coco, snowball in hand.

"Cooo Coco!" the bird, plane, tree, friend screeched spinning on her heel and firing a wild shot that sent Wilt crashing to the ground.

A twig snapped behind her so she spun again and fired wildly smacking Eduardo in the face. She continued firing until he was buried again and then clucked away leaving the three friends defeated and dazed.

"Sometimes…" Bloo said woozily, "Sometimes I really hate birds."

Wilt and Eduardo quickly agreed as they laid there.

Back in the house Frankie awoke to find herself in bed. Hadn't she fallen asleep on the couch with Chris? Suddenly there came a knock at her door.

"Come in," she said hesitantly.

"Happy Thanksgiving," Chris said walking in with a bowl of oatmeal and a tray.

"Breakfast in bed, huh?" Frankie asked pulling herself up to rest against the headrest, "What'd you break?"

Chris laughed a little and then set down the tray. There was a steaming hot bowl of oatmeal, an orange, a cup of coffee, toast, and a rose.

"You've been working hard all this time, I thought it was time someone served you for once," he said warmly.

Frankie didn't know what to say. She could only look at him as he spoke. Why was he so good to her?

"Chris…?" she asked, "Why **are** you so good to me?"

He stopped and looked at her as she realized she had just said that out loud. Frankie quickly turned away trying to hide from his gaze.

"Frankie," he said, softly turning her head to look at him, "I'm your friend, what more reason do I need to do this?"

She rubbed her own hand on the back of his as a single tear rolled down her cheek. Here he was, the man she had created, taking care of her, helping her…loving her and she wanted to know why? He sat down next to her as more tears began to roll. She wanted to tell him so badly, but she didn't know how he would react. For that matter she didn't know if her feelings were real or just out of desperation. She wanted him to hold her, to comfort her and, as if by chance, he obliged wrapping his warm arms around her. Frankie let her head rest on his shoulder as she continued to whimper.

"Hey, hey its okay, you're alright," he told her, "I'm here for you."

She wanted to tell him, to tell him about all the bad dates, about things that had been said, about her loneliness, and she wanted to tell him she loved him. She shivered as he held her tighter.

"I'm sorry," she finally told him as she began to calm down.

His grip never loosened, "For what?"

"I didn't mean to break down like that," she answered keeping her eyes hidden from his own.

"Its okay, what am I if not a shoulder to cry on?" he asked resting his head on hers. "Everything will be alright, just let it all out."

She continued sobbing as she began telling him. She told him about Dillon and how Mac and Bloo had to show her he was wrong for her, about the last three dates she had and how they all wanted one thing. About having such a hard time being alone while all around her people were coming together and falling in love, and about the nights she had to cry herself to sleep because she thought she'd be alone forever. Lastly, she told him how having him back in her life meant so much and that she had started feeling strangely about him.

"What do you mean 'feeling strange'?" he asked in a serious tone.

Frankie lifted her head and stared straight through his glasses and into his green eyes, "I think I'm falling in love with you."

His breathing quickened and his cheeks turned a dull red. She didn't know if she should have told him, but it was now or never, she told herself.

"Chris?" she asked hesitantly.

"I don't…don't really know how to respond to that," he answered bowing his head, "I've always sort of…you know, felt the same way about you, but I just, I didn't think that you would…"

He didn't finish. Frankie didn't care if it was right, she had to tell him in the one way she could…a kiss. Her tender lips pressed up against his as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her. He hesitantly returned it as his arms grew tighter around her.

They finally parted and sat there staring at each other intently until Chris finally said something.

"Well, that was interesting."

Frankie punched him in the arm, "That's all you have to say? 'Well that was interesting'?"

Chris smiled as he pulled her close. He didn't need words for her to know what he was thinking.

-------------------------

Unaware of the blissful events occurring upstairs Mac began setting up the stage for Bloo's big bonanza. He hummed a soft tune as he placed plate after plate down one side and up the other. As he passed by one of the windows he saw Coco terrorizing the others with her snowball-zooka and laughed. It was high time she showed everyone what she could do. In the back of his mind he remembered something he had told himself in a dream last night.

This is a flashback of a dream>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

He had been floating among pictures and events from Frankie's past, seeing her with Chris for all those years, allowing Mac to see how much they cared about each other. It was a sort of tunnel of memories that he never experienced, but somehow knew and at the end he came face to face with none other than himself.

"Hey there," the Alternate Mac said.

Breathing heavily Mac responded, "Uh, hi?"

"You've seen the way they are when they're together, right?" Alternate Mac asked spinning his back to Mac.

The confused eight year old nodded. He knew, deep down in his heart, that Frankie and Chris were on a whole other level than he was. They had been together forever.

"But at the same time, you know they both care about you," Alternate Mac stated floating up to Mac and placing a hand on his shoulder, "You're practically a little brother to them and without you their lives would be incomplete."

Mac was even more confused. How could he complete their lives? He was just a kid.

"Without you, they wouldn't remember their own childhoods. You bring an innocence to them that they lost years ago. You are their voice of reason and without you, they would quickly fall into chaos," Alternate Mac continued, "But you need them as much as they need you. Frankie keeps you honest with the love you have in your heart for her and Chris is a great teacher if you listen. They need you and you need them, but you cannot be what they are to each other. Do you understand?"

Mac let this new information sink in. This other version of him was right. They did need him as much as he needed them. And so what if Frankie didn't love him the way he thought he loved her, he was like a brother to her, and that was good enough, right?

"I understand…"

End Dream Sequence>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"They belong together," he said softly smiling. "And who knows, maybe I'll meet that right girl Frankie was talking about. Yeah, someday…"

-------------------------------

At 7 P.M. on the dot Bloo's Thanksgiving Extravaganza began. He started with singing the theme song to his favorite sports event and dancing. Many of the house's friends had sat down as the rest looked for seats. Apparently Bloo was going to have guests, special acts, even a talent show. Hard to believe he could do it all.

In the kitchen Wilt and Coco were putting the finishing touches on the stuffing as Mac carried bowl after bowl of vegetables out to the table. Eduardo was peeling and mashing the last of the potatoes when the oven bell rang telling him the baked potatoes were done. Everything was going according to plan. Even the birds were on track.

Frankie wheeled her way past the fourth oven, peering within by way of the little window and smiled. It would only be another ten minutes before they were ready. Sitting on one of the nearby countertops was Chris. He watched her every move thinking back on how they had spent their afternoon. It brought a warm yet devilish smile to his face. He had finally told her how he had felt. The feelings he'd kept bottled up since high school and he finally got to tell her. And even better she felt the same way about him. He had a lot to give thanks for this year, he told himself hopping off the counter and checking the first of the turkeys.

"Ah," he said taking in the scent of a perfectly baked bird, "now that's turkey."

A wooden spoon came crashing down on his hand as he was about to tear off a piece.

"What did I tell you?" Frankie said looming over him brandishing the wooden weapon.

Chris stood up exasperated and sweating, "Uh, don't touch?"

Her eyes narrowed as she repeated, "Don't touch."

"Sorry, I just couldn't resist, it looked soooooooo good," Chris pleaded.

"I know it looks good, and it tastes even better, but we have our own bird, so just wait until everyone else has been served then you and me and the gang can have ours, got it?" she asked rapping the wooded spoon in her open hand.

"Yes ma'am," he said in a pathetic tone.

"Did you just call me ma'am!"

Out in the dining hall Bloo's fifth act was about to come on. He had really floored him with his own set of impressions of residents within the home. This was all turning out just perfect.

'Now if Frankie will just serve the bird already…' he thought.

The fifth act was Armpit Joe re-enacting his talent show winning performance and brought a smile to many people's faces. As the friend went into his overture Frankie emerged from the kitchen with a large covered platter sitting on her lap. Following closely behind were Mac and Eduardo and behind them were Wilt and Chris, each carrying an additional platter. The five of them moved in a v-shape placing the birds around the table before disappearing back into the kitchen and emerging once again in the same fashion. They did this two more time until there was a total of twenty birds spread between the three hundred odd friends. Up on stage Bloo welcomed Madame Foster who walked up to the mike and lowered it.

"Hello everyone," the little old lady said.

The room was filled with claps and greetings from the gathered friends.

"Thank you all for the warm welcome. Now then, many of you have spent a Thanksgiving or two here with us, but for those of you who haven't, Thanksgiving here at Fosters is a very special time. It is a time when all differences are set aside to give way to brotherhood and sisterhood and eat some really good food!"

Once again the hall filled with cheers and praise. She had really hit the nail on the head with her speech.

"But in all seriousness, we celebrate Thanksgiving here in the hopes that it will bring together all the wayward souls who have made their way here through the course of the year and show them that they are family and that they have a place. You are all very special to me because of who you are. You are my family just as you are a family unto each other," the room was silent as she said this, "Though you may come in all different shapes and sizes, colors and genders, you are all equal here. And before I get to grace, let me say this one last thing…here, always and forever you are family," the audience clapped and some shed a tear at the beautiful words, "Okay then, rub-a-dub-dub thanks for the grub, yay God! Now eat up!"

The friends laughed and began gorging themselves on the various dishes set through out the table. Back on stage, Bloo's show continued. Madame Foster greeted several friends between bites as she made her way to the head of the table. Mr. Herriman held her chair out for her as she leapt into it. The gentlemanly rabbit then took his own seat at her left. Chris rolled Frankie up to Madame Foster's right and then quickly took a seat beside her. Mac, Wilt, Eduardo, and Coco took their seats near the head of the table as they often did. These friends and humans were often referred to as the inner circle, and it was well known that they were the closest of all the residents within the house.

"Frankie, my dear, you've out done yourself this year," Madame Foster said finishing a slice of turkey.

Frankie looked to her compatriots and smiled, "Well I couldn't have asked for better helpers."

The group began to eat letting all their troubles disappear for the time being. It was a time for togetherness and family. It was a time for good friends and good eats. And lastly it was a time for love. They continued to eat while outside new snowfall began planning new adventures for the friends.

"Happy Thanksgiving everyone."

To be continued…

God! Okay, this is by far the longest chapter I have ever written and I can't believe it took me so long to write it, but now it's done. There was a lot in it, including the naming of Terrence's friend and the news that he was nearly ready. Ready for what? I won't know till I write it and you know that means you shouldn't ask. Anyway, I've got a backstory planned for Blaze and I have more romance on the way. I hope you like the way I made things between Frankie and Chris, because personally I think they've earned a bit of happiness. Mac's life is about to get more complicated too as I introduce a new girl named Felicia. What will Bloo do? Well, if he stays true to character he'll cause trouble and come between them, but that waits to be seen. Anyway, I know it's early for Thanksgiving, its not even Halloween here yet, but oh well. Hope you liked it and want more. Until next time, later.


	7. Decorations and Lessons in Chaos

Okay, been a while hasn't it? This is the first chapter of the second part of the story. This part focuses mainly on Christmas, the budding relationship between Frankie and Chris, and the tragedy of Wilt's past. You will also bare witness to a very special Christmas present for Mac. I am really, really, really crappy with gift ideas, so if anyone has some and they'd like to share, please leave them in the reviews. Thank you to everyone who's been here since the beginning and if you're just joining us now, I hope you enjoy!

Of Loves Lost & Friends Past

Chapter 7: Decorations and Lessons in Chaos

One after another, big brown cardboard boxes fell from the attic into the waiting arms of the friends below. Each one contained different decorations and after the pick up, the friends would report to Mr. Herriman, who had a clip board with orders for each box.

"East Wing, third hallway, on the left," he said as Bloo walked by with a box of lights.

The blobby friend was soon followed after by Eduardo and Coco. Behind them, with a box of fake snow and snow in a can was Frankie. Her legs were no longer wrapped in plaster, however, she was still confined to her wheelchair. Her doctor said it would only be another two weeks or less until she was walking around again. This was the hardest part, the physical therapy and re-growing the muscle she had lost from being in the chair. As she turned a corner she found Chris and Mac starting to add limbs to the fake Christmas tree and smiled.

The eight year old boy was covered in tinsel. Apparently Chris had dumped a bag on his head after Mac had nailed him with a snowball.

"That'll teach you, shorty," Chris quipped sliding another limb into place.

Mac huffed pulling another from the box and spreading out the branches on it, "I will get you for this."

"If you think you can take me…" the imaginary friend said slyly.

Frankie wheeled up behind them, "Now, now, boys, that's no way to act. If you really wanna solve your differences, you do it like men, with a snow war."

The three laughed. They had become closer than ever.

------------------------------------

Madame Foster sat in her warm, cushioned chair watching the residents of her home go about with various tasks. It truly filled her heart with warmth to see so many of them working together to decorate the house. To one side were Handy and Jelly Bear hanging up lights over the mantle of the fireplace while on the other side sat Cheese and Louise making popcorn strings for the biggest tree in the house. The only problem was Cheese kept eating the popcorn string and all. But that didn't matter to Louise, she was happy with him.

Everywhere Madame Foster looked she saw the meaning of togetherness and Christmas Spirit. Everywhere that is, but the front door where a familiar tall, red friend stood watching the snow fall outside. He wore a black beanie on his head and had a blue scarf draped around his neck. The air around him was filled with sorrow, grief, and anger and many people shied away from this usually exuberant friend.

It broke the old woman's heart seeing him that way, but he had a reason and a right, whether she wanted to admit it or not. Maria was a very special girl and she was taken away in a flash for no reason. Another victim of a drunk driver. And it didn't help that her accident had happened a week before Christmas.

"Wilt, dear you can't keep this bottled up forever…" Madame Foster said bowing her head.

------------------------------------

Terrence watched with delight as the guards tried desperately to stabilize Emil. The teen's throat had been torn out and he was losing dangerous amounts of blood. He knew there was no way to save him, that's why Terrence had gone for the throat.

"Get psycho…" he said with glee as he was dragged back to his cell in cuffs.

The guards slammed the door shut and yelled something incoherent to him before storming down the hall.

"You've got this down, lad," Blaze said appearing behind the teen and ripping the cuffs off. "I think it's about time we take our leave, what about you?"

"Show me what you got…" Terrence answered grinning evilly.

The air around Blaze began to heat faster than Terrence expected and then suddenly burst into flames. The red haired imaginary friend's head leaned to the right and the flame followed suit until it shot through the lock on the cell and blew the thirty pound cell door off its hinges with a loud crash.

"Oh bellboy?" Blaze asked sarcastically, "We're leaving!"

The guards watched in horror as Blaze's hands swirled with flames. It would be the last thing any of them would ever see.

-----------------------------------------

"Hey Wilt," Chris said casually as he stepped up beside the tall friend, "You know, we could really use a hand from someone with your special, uh, attributes right about now."

Wilt didn't say a word. His gaze never left the window.

"Wilt?" Chris asked tapping Wilt's hand.

The lanky friend opened the door and walked out slamming it in Chris' face. The bespectacled friend watched Wilt walk into the night and disappear in the snow.

'Come on man, you've gotta work through this,' Chris thought as he turned back to the stairs, watching the door over his shoulder.

Upstairs Frankie, Mac, Bloo, and Eduardo were putting the ornaments on the tree and swapping Christmas stories. When Chris walked back in alone, they immediately stopped talking. Chris bowed his head and looked away.

"Where's Wilt?" Mac asked innocently.

Frankie cleared her throat and then put a hand on Mac's shoulder, "He doesn't exactly do Christmas very well, Mac."

"I thought he was doing better," Chris blurted out raising his hands in frustration, "I mean last year he wasn't even depressed, so why…"

Nobody spoke until Bloo finally asked the question the older friends were dreading.

"What's his deal? I mean come on, it's Christmas, eat, drink, be merry, get lots of presents, what doesn't he get?" the tiny friend asked.

"Seńor Bloo, you do not know why he is angry, but it is a good reason," Eduardo stated.

Frankie looked to Chris in desperation, "Don't look at me, Red, I explained it last time."

The red head shook her head and then began, "About six years ago, on a night a lot like tonight, there was a really happy family. It was the week before Christmas and a little girl named Maria was out with her parents and her best friend. They were driving around looking at all the lights when it happened. A guy driving a semi slammed into them from the side crumpling the car and sending it flying through the air. Wilt and Maria were thrown from it and landed on the street. Her parents weren't so lucky. They died almost on impact."

Mac and Bloo were speechless. They had no idea this had happened. Frankie could read their faces like an open book, but she knew she couldn't end there. She had to tell the rest of the tale, they deserved to know.

Frankie gulped and then continued, "Wilt was trapped under the semi's trailer and Maria's jacket had gotten sucked up into the axle trapping her as well. By the time the paramedics got there she had fallen into a coma and Wilt…Wilt had lost his arm trying to get to her."

"You mean he tore his own arm off to get to…?" Mac asked stunned and horrified.

Frankie nodded before she continued, her voice cracking. It was at that point Chris interrupted.

"Wilt and Maria were taken to the hospital where they both fought to live, but Maria didn't come out of it. She died on Christmas Eve just as Wilt woke up. I don't think he ever forgave himself for what happened. It wasn't his fault, the guy who hit them was drunk and…and…" Chris stopped to cringe as his eyes flared red, "Wilt lost his entire family, not to mention his arm and eye, that night because some idiot thought he could drive."

The whole room was silent. No one could speak, but they were all thinking the same thing. Finally Chris spoke up and finished the story.

"Since then, he starts to act like this every Christmas. We do the best we can to console him, but…it's never enough. Last year was the first year that he didn't let it bring him down. He was sad and he was emotional, but he wasn't distant like he is right now."

-----------------------------------------

Wilt walked down the street lost within his own thoughts. Maria was so sweet, why did she have to die? She had her whole life ahead of her.

'Wilt?' Chris's voice rang through Wilt's mind.

"I should have done something more. I could have been faster, I should have been!" Wilt answered.

'Woulda, shoulda, coulda, that doesn't matter anymore, all that matters is what did happen,' Chris told him, 'You did everything you could for that little girl and there was nothing more you could have done. For God's sake you lost your arm, your eye, you almost died! How would that have helped her?'

Wilt stopped and looked up. The rattle of his fake eye always seemed a reminder of his failure, but Chris told him it was a reminder of his strength and love. The stitches in his arm were a sign that he had fought to protect his child, his friend. They weren't reminders of failure, but strength and he had to accept that he had done everything in his power.

'It wasn't enough to save her,' Chris said bluntly, 'but you gave her the time of her life. You were there for her when she needed you and you were there at her side in the end. What more could she ask for? And let's not forget all the other people whose lives you've touched just because you were there for them. You've done more for more people than any friend could ever hope to achieve. You did your best and that is all that matters.'

The tall friend watched the snow fall as he remembered what it was that Chris had told him all those years ago. The pain of losing Maria and her parents still hung heavy on his shoulders, but the bespectacled friend was right. Wilt had done everything he could and now the best thing he could do was just honor her memory.

--------------------------------------

The outer wall of the detention center crumbled and fell. Blaze's power was absolutely incredible, Terrence thought as Blaze began to whirl his arms in the air forming a wind tunnel that lifted the two of them into the air. Behind them stood the remains of what had once been a three story boy's prison. All in all, Blaze had torn into thirteen guards and several prisoners, all to the enjoyment of Terrence. They made quite a pair.

"Where to now?" Blaze asked.

Terrence thought for a minute before answering, "Home…"

--------------------------------------

They had put the last of the ornaments on their tree when Mac walked up to Chris with the star. The man accepted it, but stopped, looking up at the tree. This was Wilt's job. He was the only one tall enough to put the star on top without a ladder and he had done so every year for five years. Frankie watched her boyfriend lost in thought and managed a smile. Finally, the man stepped toward the ladder and began his climb to the top.

At the top rung, Chris looked down at the others and then back at the metal star in his hands. This didn't feel right.

"Looks good guys," came a familiar voice.

They all spun in surprise to see Wilt standing in the doorway covered in snow. He wore a face full of sorrow, but his eye betrayed the hope that they would forgive his attitude.

Chris leapt off the ladder and put the star in Wilt's hand with a smile.

"You've got a job to do buddy," he said stepping out of Wilt's way.

The lanky friend stepped toward the tree and looked upon the others. He was filled with warmth to see them smiling as he reached up and placed the star on top of the tree. Stepping back, he was amazed as the tree came to life with lights and sounds from the various ornaments. A warm hand placed on his back was accompanied by a hug around his ankle. Looking down he saw that Eduardo and Coco had latched onto him in an effort to comfort him.

"You gonna be okay?" Eduardo asked as Wilt pulled off his hat and kneeled down to look at the ornaments.

The tall friend, now half his size, smiled and responded, "Yeah, I think I'm gonna be fine."

The group of friends stared in awe at their tree. In the hundred other bedrooms, the other residents of Foster's were assembling and decorating their own trees as they did every December. But this tree was different, this was their tree, Wilt, Eduardo, Coco, Frankie, and Chris', and now it was Bloo and Mac's as well. They were a family within the larger Fosters family.

-------------------------------------

Outside Fosters, Terrence and Blaze stood at the gates looking through and watching all the activity. While it would have filled anyone else's heart with love and warmth, Terrence felt sick. He had never thought much of family, especially his own, but this was just sick and wrong. Watching these…these freaks pretend to be a family made him want to vomit.

Blaze stood beside him in silence. His hands burnt with fury, but he chose to do nothing. He would bide his time as he had down for so many years. He had been created from Terrence's anger, hatred, and fears, but it had taken many years to form such a being. Waiting until just the right time to strike would be easier than that. Blaze's attention was drawn to a room on the fourth floor of the Victorian house, where a familiar bespectacled friend stood holding a cup and staring out over the lawn. He looked happy and quite content with himself. Blaze's cheeks were pulled into a smile when he thought about how much fun he would have destroying that freak.

"Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas indeed," he said laughing as he and his creator began to walk away.

Blaze's eyes flared with red fire as they turned the corner.

--------------------------------------

Chris stared out of his window and sipped his cup of coffee. Had he really seen someone there or was his mind just playing tricks on him, as it usually did? It didn't matter, there were more important things to be concerned with, he thought turning to watch Frankie. God, she was so beautiful. Just the sight of her made his knees quake and the sound of her voice was the sweetest thing he'd ever heard, even if she did yell a lot. He was utterly and unequivocally in love with her. The same way he had been back in high school.

Frankie looked up from her book to see him watching her and smiled. He returned her smile and walked over to the bed, sitting down at her side. How had they not gotten together after all their years together? It seemed that they were made for each other, both literally and figuratively.

The pair sat in her bed looking deeply into each others eyes and remembering easier times back when they were kids. About the trouble they used to cause and the adventures they had. Frankie could still see innocence in Chris' eyes when she looked deeper and it made her regret some of the things she had done over the years. But even with everything that she had done, everything they had been through together, and everything they had done to each other, they were still perfect for each other.

With that, Frankie placed her hands on Chris' face, pushed his glasses up, and leaned in to kiss him. She loved him and that was all that mattered now.

-------------------------------------

On the other side of the hallway, Madame Foster once again sat in her cushiony chair and thought. She had been around for a great many Christmases, but this one was going to different. Not simply because she said it would be, but because it was going to be different. The house had a new permanent resident and his first Christmas with them was going to be one he would remember for the rest of his life.

Madame Foster pulled out her personal phone list and dialed the number for one Sasha Gorden. The little old lady had the perfect gift for the young boy, one that would show him that he was truly family and that he would always be welcome in their lives.

"Hello, Ms. Gorden, this is Madame Foster," the elder Foster said into the receiver, "I was wondering if you could help me draw up some adoption papers?"

To be continued…

Here we go, Part 2 Chapter 1. It was pretty slow, but oh well, I need to set up for what's coming. I hope you all enjoyed it and if you have any suggestions for Christmas presents, decorations, parties, etc. please tell me. I also want to tell you all I am not leaving out Chanukah or Kwanza, I just don't know anything about them, so in order to keep the story simple I will go with the holiday I know. Sorry if this bothers anyone, but I can't help it. So now that's taken care of, hope you all like it. Later.


	8. Last Minute Madness

Hey everyone, I bet I know what you're all thinking right now. Didn't we already read chapters 8 and 9? Well yeah you did, but see here's the thing, I didn't like them so I deleted them. It was bad writing and I didn't think that was what you all deserved, so here's the rewrite. I hope you all like it. And lastly, an apology for the delay, I've been having a rough few weeks, studying for finals, finishing up classes, and now taking finals, but this is it. Two more days and I'm done. The next few chapters will be up by Christmas Eve at the very latest, so until then on with the story.

Of Loves Lost & Friends Past

Chapter 8: Last Minute Madness

Mac and Chris walked through the mall. They had an hour to get the rest of their shopping done and then they had to meet up with everyone else at the bus. As they rounded the corner they passed a wall of TVs in the window of Radioshack. If they had only took the time to watch the breaking news report they'd have seen the announcement of last night's break out. More importantly they would have been more aware of their surroundings and the pair that watched them with hate filled eyes.

The young boy looked up at Chris, "What are you looking for?"

The man stared straight ahead, "Not looking, picking up. My shopping's all done. All that's left is to pick it up."

"Really? You're all done?" the boy asked surprised.

"Yeah…well, that is I'm all done except for you," the man said looking down at his friend, "so as soon as we're done here, you pick out anything you want and its yours, ok?"

Mac laughed as they entered the specialty shop. The old man sitting behind the counter smiled as Chris approached.

"All set, Chris," the old man said opening a drawer and pulling out a square black jewelry box.

"Thanks a lot Mr. Evans," he said accepting the box and opening it.

The man's eyes sparkled and a smile crawled across his face. Mac could see something glinting, but couldn't make out what it was.

"What do you think?" Chris said kneeling down to show him.

Inside the box was a gold locket on a silver chain. Chris pulled it out and opened it up to reveal a picture of Chris and Frankie. Their fingers were interlaced and they were pressed up against each other, smiling. Mac knew right away that Frankie would love it.

"Its perfect," the boy said closing his eyes and smiling big.

Chris stood back up and paid Mr. Evans and then the pair left, wishing the old man a Merry Christmas. As they left, Chris slid the box into his coat pocket.

"Alright, buddy, now its time for **your** present," the man said walking side by side with the eight year old.

"And you said I could get anything I wanted, right?" Mac asked looking up hopefully.

"Yeah, as long as it doesn't cost more than $150, but you don't have to spend that much," Chris answered nervously.

The boy laughed as they entered the Kay-Bee Toys and into the frenzy of parents and children grabbing whatever they could. Chris shuddered, he may have just opened Pandora's Box.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Frankie and Wilt strolled by the food court, watching the people trying to take a break from their present hunting. Every seat was filled, every table covered, and every person had armfuls of bags. In a way it was funny, but really it was just incredible. Christmas had become another commercialized holiday just like all the others, but at least the folks at Fosters knew how to really celebrate the holiday. Still, it didn't keep them from acting like everybody else, except they didn't have a lanky red friend to carry all their bags. Wilt had several very big, very full bags hanging from his good arm.

"Come on, Wilt," Frankie called from her wheelchair, "Only two more shops and we're done!"

She felt bad about making him carry all the bags, but well, the truth was she enjoyed having him around to do all the manual labor. In another week or so things would be back to normal. She'd be walking again and Herriman wouldn't let anyone help her. But until then she'd have to live it up.

"Hurry up you slowpoke!" she called entering the Borders.

Wilt followed after her on wobbily legs. The things he did for family, sheesh!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Mac fought his way through the crowd of boys gathered around the video game section and finally landed right in front of the wall depicting which games were available. There were so many to choose from! Should he get the new Final Fantasy or maybe Ultimate Spider-Man? Or maybe he should see if he could talk Chris into buying an X-Box 360, now that would be cool! The boy looked back to find Chris, but caught a glimpse, instead, of the one person he didn't expect to see again…Terrence.

Mac went wide eyed and fell back against the kids that had pushed past him. They shoved back and the boy fell to the floor. He quickly sprang to his feet and spun searching for his brother only to find nothing. Had he imagined it? His mind was just playing tricks on him, right? Where was Chris, he'd know what to do.

The boy pushed his way through the crowds looking for his friend, terrified to look back, fearing he would see his brother. He hoped against hope he was just imagining things when he crashed into someone and crumpled to the ground. The stranger turned around and looked down at the terrified boy smiling.

"Hello baby brother," he said evilly as Mac screamed at the top of his lungs.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Chris had lost sight of Mac and was now searching feverishly for him. He didn't know why he was so worried, but he just had a gut feeling something wasn't right. That was when he heard the scream.

"MAC!" Chris yelled at the top of his lungs catching sight of a mullet wearing teen.

As he shoved past the crowd something cold and hard collided with the back of his head. He fell to his knees and grabbed his head, looking behind him. There he stood, red fiery hair, the same height and stature, holding a lead pipe. Chris cringed as he tried to stand only to be grabbed by the collar and shoved through the crowd and then finally to the front of the store and through the giant windows, out into the mall with a loud crash.

The red haired man flashed a grin and then disappeared into the crowd as another scream rang out. Chris laid sprawled out on his back taking deep breaths. What had just happened?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Mac flung his arms and kicked as Terrence lifted him up and started dragging him away. Amid the chaos and the yelling from the crowd, the kidnapping went unnoticed, that is until Terrence exited the store. Mac saw Chris on the ground covered in glass and called out his name, praying the man was alive.

Answering his prayers, Chris rolled onto his side and managed to say Mac's name in a raspy voice as he watched the boy get dragged away. His glasses hung from his right ear as he slowly rose to his feet with the aid of several people. He had to help Mac, nothing else mattered! He was off balance as he started running and he quickly slumped over resting his hand on the wall.

"Going somewhere?" a voice came from behind.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Frankie hummed a song as she cradled the book in her arms. She didn't think it was much of a present, but Chris had talked about it for so long, talked…he had raved about it. Now she had finally found a present that would really surprise him. Wilt exited the electronics shop holding yet another bag.

"Hey, Frankie," he said, "all done, now all we gotta do is go find Mac and Chris and then…"

The red friend didn't finish as Mac ran up, tears pouring from his eyes and fear filling his face.

"Mac! What's wrong, where's Chris?" Frankie asked frantically.

There was a loud yell followed by a crash as Chris entered their view. He was holding his sides and limping as he approached them.

"Oh my God!" Wilt stammered catching Chris as he fell forward. "What happened?"

Behind them, screams filled the air as someone emerged from the rubble of a hand cream cart on the floor below them. His red eyes flashed as he bent down and then launched himself into the air, landing on the second floor softly. He brushed his hair back over his head revealing his face and laughing.

"Party's just gettin' started, where ya think you're goin'?" he demanded running at them.

Wilt set Chris down next to Frankie and Mac and stepped towards their attacker thrusting his leg forward. The red haired man leapt and brought his knees crashing down into Wilt's face, toppling the tall friend. Frankie and Mac watched in fear as the man turned to face them.

"No…" Frankie whispered recognizing his face.

He smiled wickedly revealing long sharp canine teeth. His eyes flared with flames as he began laughing. He looked exactly like Chris, who was laid not more than five feet away.

"What d'you think, Frankie?" he asked, "We could be twins!"

Terrence ran up from behind and skidded to a stop next to the red haired man.

"You couldn't even handle an eight year old?" he asked as Terrence breathed deeply. "You really are pathetic."

"Not as pathetic as you, you cheap rip off," a voice came weakly from behind.

"So you're awake, huh? Well good, I was hoping to have some more fun with you before you die!" the man said.

Chris was taking deep, ragged breaths as he watched his opponent circle him. His sides and head were on fire and his vision was blurring, but he had to do whatever he could, in case he needed to give Frankie and the others time to escape.

"You gonna tell me who you are?" Chris asked standing up to his full height and stepping back into a fighting stance.

"The name's Blaze, and I'm more than you could ever hope to handle!" Blaze yelled charging Chris.

To be continued…

Sorry it's so short, but this is the way I want it and that means that the next chapter will be extra long. Until then, later.


	9. The Fine Line

Of Loves Lost & Friends Past

Chapter 9: The Fine Line

His eyes slowly slid open and a moan escaped his lips. The only things visible were white ceiling tiles. To his right there was an incessant beeping. It grated on his nerves as he tried to lift himself up. A sudden pain shot through him and he collapsed back down into the bed. What had happened? Where was he?

His mind was ablaze with images and sounds. Screams of terror blurred with images of a man. Who was this man?

"You're awake!" came a soft voice.

He turned his head slowly to look at the red head. Her eyes were red and there were deep bags below them. She was dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a dark green hoodie with her hair pulled back into a ponytail that stood on end. Tears began running down her cheeks as she gripped his hand in her own.

"I was so worried about you," she told him, "you really had us all scared."

He couldn't answer. He had no recollection of what had happened, just flashes of memories he couldn't identify.

"Frankie…?" he asked weakly.

The red head smiled looking into his eyes, expectantly.

"What happened to me?"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_The wall separating Galyans from the rest of the mall exploded as two figures fell through. Their hands were at each others throats as they crashed to the ground. All around them people fled, screaming and diving for cover. The red haired man laughed as he looked up into the air. He was having a blast as he pulled himself up and realized he was in the sporting goods department. Things just kept getting better and better as he searched for a weapon._

_A roar filled the air as something crashed into him sending him to the ground._

_"Never!" a loud voice yelled grabbing the red haired man by the collar, "I'll never let you hurt them!"_

_"Now, now, Chris," the red haired man said thrusting his knee up into Chris' groin. "You talk a big game, but you forgot to do the most important thing," he explained pulling a driver from the golf rack behind him, "You always, always protect your family jewels!"_

_Chris flew through air crashing down on top of a glass case. His body was on fire as he pulled himself down with a thud. Blaze was too strong, there was no way he could win. But there had to be something he could do._

_"You know, its really rather pathetic," Blaze said throwing the driver to the side, "the way Terrence talked about you, I thought you'd give me a real challenge…" his hands formed fireballs, "but then again, life's just full of disappointments!" _

_The case Chris was hiding behind exploded in flames as the man stood up. He may not be able to win, but he wouldn't die like a coward. Maybe he'd pull off a miracle and defeat this guy…he looked at Blaze, noticing that even with all they'd already been through the red haired man was still at full strength. _

_"Right… that'll happen," Chris said diving out of the way of another fireball._

_"Come on! Is this all ya got?" Blaze asked in a disdainful tone._

_Chris rolled away from a rack of baseball bats as they cracked and exploded. Every which way he turned he was met with flame and explosions until there was nowhere to turn to._

_"Alright matchstick," he said trying to sound like he was in control, "You wanna fight? You got one!"_

_Chris rushed forward barely dodging another fireball as he curled his fist as tight as he could. Blaze stepped back, off guard from the sudden ferocity in his opponent just as Chris leapt through the smoke, smashing his fist into Blaze's face. Blaze fell back as Chris landed and continued his assault._

_'Can't give him a chance to defend!' Chris thought kicking with everything had connecting with Blaze's ribs._

_The red haired man clutched his sides coughing up blood as his attacker charged forward once more. Now things were getting interesting!_

_Blaze threw himself back lifting his hand to fire another blast as Chris leapt into the air throwing his leg forward._

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"You mean you can't remember anything?" Frankie asked worriedly.

Chris turned his gaze back to the ceiling tiles, "I remember you and everybody else, but I… I can't remember how I got like this or the past couple of days…"

Frankie set her head down on his bed. How could she tell him? The shock…what if it was too much for him? She had no choice, it would be better coming from her than from some newscaster.

"I have to tell you something…"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_By now the mall was in full panic. People were screaming and trying to reach the doors, packages and gifts were trampled, families separated, and all semblance of Christmas Spirit gone. Mac clung desperately to Frankie as the wave of people flowed past them. They could only pray that Wilt was safe from being trampled as they moved into a corner trying to brace themselves. Terrence had been carried off by the wave of people as the chaos began to reach every one of the occupants within the mall._

_Frankie could only hope that Chris was okay._

_The red head's hopes were dashed as Chris and Blaze fell out into the mall and into the crowd of people. Both men, covered in bruises and injuries, breathed heavily as they tried to reach each other only to be held back by the crowds._

_"Get outta my way!" Blaze screamed pushing and shoving his way through the people separating him from his opponent._

_Chris had managed to make it to a clearing, but as he spun searching for Blaze he secretly prayed that the red haired man had been carried off by the people around him. It was to no avail, however, as Blaze jumped into the clearing with Chris and threw a wild punch hitting him in the stomach. He fell to a knee holding his stomach._

_"Cheap shot…" he said looking up at Blaze with hate in his red blazing eyes._

_"What can I say, I saw the opening and I took it," Blaze explained._

_"Then I guess you won't mind if I return the favor!" Chris yelled reaching down and then swinging up a metal microphone stand._

_Blaze crashed down on top of a nearby table. The people had started flowing around him as he began using his powers again._

_"Cute…" Blaze said leaping at Chris._

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Frankie watched him as he stood at the window. His head was tightly wrapped in a bandage, as were his hands and chest. Outside the window, snow had started to fall again. This would be a Christmas for the ages, she thought wheeling up next to him and taking his hand. It was like grabbing ice, but she held tight anyway. What was going through his mind at that very moment? She had told him about Blaze, about the fight, about the fall… yet, he couldn't remember any of it. Frankie wondered if it would have been for the better that he had no recollection of it. Maybe she should have just stayed quiet.

"What does that make me?" he asked suddenly, snapping her out of her thoughts.

Frankie stared out through the window with him, "You're no different now than you were before. You're still my imaginary friend and I still love you."

Chris looked at her revealing the confusion and doubt he was torturing himself with. If what Frankie had said was true then he was very different from before. He had done something so horrible he wasn't sure he could ever forgive himself…

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_The two men barreled through the door to the garage. They were finally free from the tide of the others. The garage was a five story complex nestled between the mall and a wide open field. At this time, every space was filled with every conceivable car. _

_"I've had enough!" Blaze yelled staring Chris in the eye._

_The brown haired man huffed as he eyed his opponent. His body was exhausted, bruised, battered. It was taking everything he had just to stay standing. If he didn't end this fight now he wasn't going to survive._

_The men gritted their teeth and yelled as they charged head long. They collided amid a flurry of kicks, punches, and obscenities. Chris threw each punch and kick with every ounce of fire his body could muster while Blaze did just the same. When Blaze wasn't using his powers, they were perfectly matched. Suddenly, with a final flash of anger Chris threw every last bit of energy he had into an uppercut, connecting with Blaze's chest and filling the open garage with the echoes of a wet snap._

_Blaze's eyes went wide and welled up with tears as he fell to the ground screaming, "MY RIBS!"_

_Chris watched him while he limped over to a fire emergency station and ripped open the door revealing a red axe, "It's time to finish this…" he slurred pulling the axe out. _

_The doors leading to the mall burst open as Frankie and Mac exited. They had finally managed to catch up with the men only to find Chris about to bring an axe down on his opponent. Through gritted teeth, the man roared and swung the axe only stop just above Blaze's neck. _

_"What am I doing?" he asked suddenly horrified at his own actions._

_Blaze saw his only chance and took it sending a burst of flames from his hands. Chris was caught completely unaware as his clothes went up. He yelled and rolled on the ground trying desperately to put them out while Blaze laughed._

_"You should have killed me when you had the chance!" the red haired man exclaimed climbing to his feet. "Now you're gonna see what happens when you get me mad!" he said turning his attention to Mac and Frankie._

_The pair backed away as Blaze approached. If Chris couldn't stop him, what chance did an eight year old and a woman stuck in a wheelchair have? Blaze brought his hand up wincing in pain and flames started to swirl around them. _

_"NO!" came a scream as Blaze felt something hard collide with him._

_Chris punched and kicked sending Blaze back in a daze. _

_"I warned you…"_

_Another punch to the gut causing Blaze to bend over._

_"…I'll never…"_

_Chris grabbed Blaze's head smashing his face into his knee._

_"…let you…"_

_Blaze stumbled backwards, catching himself on the edge of the garage. They were five stories up._

_"…hurt them!"_

_Chris ran and jumped tackling Blaze and sending both men over the side. As they fell Chris continued to pummel his opponent until there was a sudden darkness._

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"So that's really it," Chris said, "I killed him."

Frankie didn't want to admit it, but yes, he had killed Blaze. The fall had broken Blaze's neck. Chris had been lucky, he'd landed on pile of snow.

"What have I done?" he asked turning away from her. "I'm no better than Blaze."

Frankie couldn't believe it. How could he think that? There was no other choice, if Chris hadn't done it, Blaze would have kept coming until they were all dead.

"Chris…" she said trying to find her voice, "you did… you did the right thing…"

He spun to face her, his face once again filled with rage, "How can you say that? I killed him!"

Frankie looked right back at him, "You didn't have a choice, you did what needed to be done to protect yourself and the people you love, the same way you were trained to do!"

Chris' head drooped. He had done everything he'd been trained to do. And he shuddered to think of what might have happened if he hadn't been able to stop Blaze. But his choice would weigh heavily on his soul for some time. He had never thought he'd be forced to take someone's life.

"Frankie…?" he asked, "I'm sorry."

The red head watched him solemnly as he turned back to the window and rested his hand on the frosty glass.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Several days had passed and Chris was released from the hospital. Frankie was no longer in her wheelchair at this time. She'd been walking for almost a full day now and smiled as she walked up to him. The man was dressed in a pair of dirty jeans with the right knee torn out and a black t-shirt over a grey long sleeve shirt. His face was covered in three days worth of stubble and his eyes were red, but he managed a smile as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close.

"Hi hon," she whispered into his ear.

Chris pulled back to look her in the eye, "Hi yourself," and with that he pressed his lips up against hers.

They stood in the breezeway of the hospital, lips locked and arms wrapped around each other for what seemed like an eternity. Finally they separated and stepped back from each other. The exhaustion and aches in Chris' body seemed to disappear as he looked her up and down.

"Good to see you on your own two feet," he said with a smirk.

"It's good to stand after all that time," she replied leading him out into the parking lot.

There it sat, the tie-dye bus Frankie had had since high school. The door slid open as the pair approached and out stepped Mac and Bloo followed by Wilt and Madame Foster. The eight year old was wrapped up in his red jacket and blue beanie while Bloo was dressed only in a red scarf and beanie. Wilt had on his own scarf and beanie as did Madame Foster, who oddly refused to wear a jacket.

"Chris, are you okay?" Mac asked sounding very concerned.

"I'm fine, Mac, just a little roughed up that's all," he responded placing his hand on the boy's head in a brotherly fashion.

"Ah I bet you're just faking it to get some attention," Bloo said in a snobby tone.

The blue blob was met with a face full of snow. Wilt extended a hand to Chris revealing his own injuries. He had been caught in the waves of people at the mall, stepped on, trampled, and then finally slammed through the doors. However, through all that, he had been more worried about Mac and the others that he didn't even let the doctors take a look at him until he knew Chris was stabilized.

The lanky red friend had a plaster cast on his right wrist and some gauze on his cheeks, but other than that he looked fine. He and the brown haired man shook hands and then stepped into the bus. Madame Foster led Chris to the seat at the back of the bus and then sat down beside him.

"What's up, Madame Foster?" he asked as Frankie started the bus and the others took their seats.

The little old lady looked up at him through her thick frames and rested her hand on the back of his, "I just want to make sure that you're okay, son."

Chris swallowed hard. Physically he was fine, but mentally? That was a different story. Chris had made a solemn vow to never take a life no matter what the case and now he had broken it. The demon that lay deep within him, his anger, had resurfaced and because it had, someone had died. Would he ever be okay? He didn't know.

"I think I'm okay, just a little ragged," he answered trying to sound sincere.

The old woman didn't believe him. She had watched him very carefully ever since Frankie imagined him back in 1986, so she could tell when he was lying. This was one of those times.

"Listen deary, whatever is bothering you, whether it's the fact that this Blaze person wore your face or that he's dead now, you will never have to face them alone," she paused to look ahead, "we're your family and that means never having to be alone."

Chris looked down at the floor of the bus letting all this sink in. What was it that was really bothering him? The fact that he had killed Blaze or the fact that Blaze was everything that Chris had strived not to be?

"When you're ready to talk about it, my door is always open," she told him, sliding off the seat and moving to a seat in the front.

The man looked up to see his friends all looking back at him with concern. He smirked and then stood and walked up to the seat behind Frankie. He couldn't explain it, but he felt better and better when he was surrounded by his family. Maybe things weren't as bad as he thought they were.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_"I'm everything you're too scared to be! I'm you without limits, without fears, without doubt! You'll see, one day you'll let loose and I'll be back! Just you wait, ha ha ha!"_

Chris tossed and turned in his bed, sweating profusely. The nightmare got more intense with every passing second until finally he shot up screaming. He blinked his eyes a dozen times to make sure he was awake. His breathing was heavy and he was covered in sweat as he threw the covers back and rose to his feet. He huffed and looked down into his hands. They were covered in blood.

Frankie ran as fast and hard as she could. The scream was so distinct in her mind. He needed her. She threw her body against the door, barreling through it to find Chris standing at the window. He didn't turn to face her.

"Chris?" she asked resting her arm around his shoulder. He kept looking down at his hands, but she couldn't see anything wrong with them, "Chris, what is it?"

"I killed him…" he said in a low voice.

Frankie pulled him into a hug and softly whispered into his ear, "Yes you did, but if you hadn't he would have killed all of us. You did everything you could, but in the end it was either him or us and I know you would **never** have forgiven yourself if it had been us. You can't keep kicking yourself over this."

With that she led him to his bed and laid him down. She closed the door to his room and then laid down in bed with him. They laid in each others arms as Frankie continued to comfort him, whispering into his ear and softly rubbing his back. Finally he fell asleep in her arms.

"Good night you big lug," she whispered resting her head on his and slipping into her own dreams.

To be continued…

Well, it's done. Blaze is dead, Terrence is on the run, and Chris' mind has been fractured. Can Frankie and the others hold him together or will he become what he has always feared? What does this mean for their Christmas? Can the innocence of a little boy save the holiday? This is it, this is the big week and everything will be done by Christmas Eve. Until then.


	10. On Angel's Wings

After the last chapter I think I need to give you guys and gals some redemption and love and some other things that fall into the genre. Last time, Chris was forced to do the one thing he feared most and now he must endure the choice he made. In this chapter you will see a side that has never before been revealed and his climb back to control. Lastly, thank you once again to everyone who has been reading since the beginning and welcome to everyone just now joining us.

Of Loves Lost & Friends Past

Chapter 10: On Angel's Wings

Frankie slowly opened her eyes to see her boyfriend still asleep. Despite everything he had been through in the last several days, he seemed peaceful. Of course, his bandages revealed the truth. In a way it was almost like old times.

The red head stood and pulled the covers back over him then walked to a wall covered in pictures. He had quite a collection. There was one from her eleventh birthday, from their first meeting, high school graduation, and one in particular that caught her eye. His black belt ceremony. She could still remember that day so clearly. The heat, the smell, the sounds…Chris was only eleven when he earned his black belt becoming the youngest student in his dojo to receive one. She smiled remembering how happy he was when his instructor tied the belt around his waist. The little boy's face was so full of life and cheer.

"I'm sorry…" a voice said behind her.

Chris was talking in his sleep.

"You have nothing to apologize for," she said walking back over to his side. "You were protecting us, there was no other way."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Mac sat at the window sill, watching the sun rise. Last night a fresh layer of snow had fallen and he wanted to go outside and have a snowball fight, maybe make a snowman, anything to make things go back to normal. It was just that things would never be normal again. He had seen a side of Chris that he never knew existed. And now he saw his friend torturing himself over his decision.

"But it wasn't his fault," Mac said to himself turning away from the window, "he had to do it, didn't he? Its not like Blaze left him a whole lot of choices."

Bloo stirred in his bed. The blob had gone to bed in a huff, upset that Chris was getting so much attention. In truth, however, the little blue friend was worried about his older friend. He would never admit it of course, but the people at Foster's Home For Imaginary Friends were his family and he would never wish anything bad on any of them. Not even Chris.

"There has to be something I can do to snap him out of this," Mac said decidedly, "yeah, there's gotta be something."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Wilt ran the indoor track, pumping his legs as hard as he could. His right arm was killing him as he thrust it up and down. He managed to ignore the pain as he rounded the corner completing his sixteenth lap and skidding to a stop. He bent over resting his head on a nearby wall breathing heavily.

"Why?" he asked himself, "Why does this keep happening to the people I love?"

His mind hurt when he thought about it. First it was his creator Jonathon, then Maria, now Chris. It seemed like every time he got close to someone they got hurt. And where was he when they needed him? Sure, Jonathon had cancer and Maria was in a coma, but Chris? Wilt had a chance to make things right by helping him and instead he got knocked out by the first punch. What kind of a friend was he?

"Every single time…" he said rubbing his head with a towel.

As he walked down the south hallway he saw Mr. Herriman straightening his tie as he unlocked his office door.

"Good morning Master Wilt," the grey rabbit said as the red friend passed.

Wilt stopped and looked down, "There's nothing good about today."

Mr. Herriman was taken aback by Wilt's response, "Is there something you'd like to talk to me about, Master Wilt?"

"I don't know," the lanky friend answered turning to face the old rabbit.

"Why don't we sit down and have a chat then," he told Wilt, opening the door.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Chris awoke around 9:30. He was sluggish as he went through is usual morning routine, shower, shave, brushing his teeth. By the time he got downstairs everyone was already seated and eating. As he entered the dining hall, many of the friends paused and looked up at him. Chris could feel the eyes piercing through him as he walked to his seat. Most would look away as he passed, afraid to meet his gaze. By the time he reached his seat he couldn't even lift his head.

"Chris?" Mac asked from across the table.

The man didn't respond. Instead he pushed his chair back in and walked through the kitchen doors leaving everyone speechless. Frankie looked to her group of friends and then stood.

"If no one else is going to say anything then I will," and with that she set off after him.

He was already out the back door and on his way to the forest behind Foster's when Frankie caught up with him.

"Wait!" she yelled reaching out for him.

He stopped and turned to face her, his eyes burning red, "I can't do this Frankie, I'm not strong enough."

She stopped several feet from him, "You're not strong enough? Chris, I'm your girlfriend and your best friend, I know everything about you so don't try pulling that bull on me!"

Her stern attitude caught him off guard, but he was quick with a retort, "You know everything about me, huh? Then you know why I have to go."

"No I don't. And I don't think you do either," she told him.

He paused trying to think of an answer. She was absolutely right, he didn't know why he thought he had to go.

"I'm just so confused," he explained gripping his fists, "I lived my life by the book, doing everything on the straight-and-narrow and then this happens. I just don't know what I'm supposed to do now. I mean, for God's sake I killed him! Do you have any idea what that feels like? And the worst part is I can't even remember doing it!" he finished, trying to keep from breaking down.

Frankie stepped closer, "It doesn't mean that you have to face this alone," she was within arms reach of him, "You need help, Chris, and I want to be that person. I want to help you see that you did the right thing."

"There's no going back," he said looking up at her, "they don't trust me anymore, they can't even look at me."

"They're only worried about you," she responded.

"Yeah, worried I'm gonna come after them next!" he quipped.

"Okay, yes some are afraid of you, but that's only because they don't know you like the rest of us do, they don't know you like I do," she said placing her hands on his shoulders.

"So what do I do?" he asked turning his gaze away from hers.

"You go back and you show them," she paused trying to sound confidant, "show them that you can be trusted and that what happened was something that couldn't be prevented. It won't be easy, but I'll be by your side the whole time and I… I won't let this haunt you."

"Frankie…" he said softly as he placed his hands on her sides and pulled her closer.

Their lips were about to meet when suddenly a flash of white and a blast of cold interrupted their romantic scene.

"Eww gross, you were gonna kiss," came a familiar voice.

Chris turned with a dour look on his face, "Did you just hit me with a snowball?" he asked.

Mac gulped, "Ye…yeah..."

"Do you know what that means?" he asked smiling evilly.

"Mac run!" Frankie yelled through a laugh.

The eight year old didn't have time to duck as a hail of snowballs pelted him. He fell to the ground laughing as they continued to fall.

"Oh, so now you think it's funny, huh?" Chris asked, suddenly right on top of the boy.

Mac couldn't help but laugh as Chris picked him up and tossed him into the air catching him in his arms. Mac yelped in delight as Chris tossed him up again and again. For a moment it seemed as if he was back to normal, but Frankie could see the restraint and the pain in Chris' eyes. This wouldn't be easy, but she knew that, with time, things would be made right again.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Wilt sat on his bed staring out the window. He had seen Chris having fun with Frankie and Mac after breakfast and wanted to join in, but he elected instead to retreat to his room. The door was locked preventing Coco and Eduardo from interrupting his alone time. This was something he really needed. How was he going to make it right with Chris? The man had never shown any hostility towards Wilt, but the lanky friend knew Chris was thinking it. At least he thought he knew.

When the knock came at the door Wilt answered immediately, "Not right now."

"Co cococo," responded his visitor.

"I said not right now, Coco!" Wilt yelled.

The door opened and in stepped the bird, tree, plane holding a key. Behind her sat the remains of one of her eggs. She wore a sad expression as she strode in and sat down on the bed next to him. Not long after she was followed by Eduardo. He closed the door before joining the pair.

(From here on Coco's words will be translated because I don't feel like writing Co coco coco and I know you don't want to read that)

"Wilt, you can't blame yourself for what happened," Coco told him.

"You weren't there," he said grimly, "you don't know what a fool I was. They'll never rely on my again. They can't even stand to be near me."

"That's not true," Eduardo said jumping to his feet, "They are your friends, we all are and and and…"

"I think what Ed's trying to say is that, everyone makes mistakes, but your friends stand by you no matter what," Coco helped the purple friend finish.

"Your mistakes never cost anyone their lives," Wilt responded.

Coco and Eduardo were taken aback. How could he say that?

"Wilt!" Coco yelled causing him to turn his head just in time to be slapped across the face.

The red friend was stunned. The scrappy bird had never done anything like that before.

"How dare you!" she yelled getting in his face, "You think you're the only one who's lost someone? You think you're the only whose been hurt before or made a mistake or done something they regret? Everyone has had something happen in their life that has had a lasting effect, you aren't the only one."

Wilt looked at her as tears welled up in the little bird's eyes. It had been such a long time since Wilt had seen her cry.

"You think you're alone, but you're not, you never will be. We will always be here by your side ready to help at a moment's notice," she finished.

"That's right," Eduardo added, "You are never alone when we are here."

Wilt managed a smile realizing they were right. It wasn't fair to the others that he acted this way.

"Guys I…" he tried to say, but didn't finish.

Eduardo hugged both of them so tight they could barely breath, "Its okay, Wilt, we forgive you, right Coco?"

"R-ri-right," she managed to say.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Mac got his wish as Chris and Frankie dove away from his snowball assault. He was actually having fun and helping Chris at the same time. Frankie watched the little boy laugh as Chris jumped up hurling another snowball in his direction. For a moment she could swear she was seeing Chris when he was Mac's age. They continued pelting each other until Chris stopped him.

"Whoa whoa whoa, why should we have all the fun?" he asked motioning towards Frankie.

Mac smiled deviously as he and Chris each threw a snowball at Frankie. She didn't take it well, tackling Chris to the ground and grabbing Mac by the ankle. The three wrestled in the snow for what seemed like hours. Finally they stopped when they couldn't move anymore. The trio collapsed, laughing.

"Alright guys, looks like its time for lunch," Frankie said huffing as she tried to stand.

Chris smirked and stood up offering his hand, "Need a hand?"

"Yeah, let us help," Mac pleaded.

Frankie couldn't help but oblige them as she led them back to the house.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A week passed by without much incident. Wilt had reverted back to his normal cheery self, but he was still depressed. His memories of Maria made it hard for him to be happy at all times, but he didn't let it bring him down. Something that Coco had said to him truly made a difference and whenever he felt like breaking down or that he was coming apart at the seams he remembered those words.

"You're alive aren't you? Well, that means that Maria will never be forgotten and you'll have a chance to spread the same happiness that she brought you."

The little bird was right. Wilt had never before thought of it that way, but she was absolutely right. Maria would never be forgotten as long as Wilt kept her in his heart. He felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, but every time he saw Chris a new pain racked him. However, this too soon passed.

"Wilt, you're my friend and I know you did everything you could to help me. I couldn't ask anything more from you."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Chris made his way to the foyer dressed in his karate gi. He wore black pants with a white top and had a black belt tied firmly around his waist. At each tip were three red strips, showing his rank. As he entered the large room, he took a deep breath. He had not forgiven himself for what he had done, but he had found a way to relieve the stress.

His punches were fast and hard, each creating a small gust as he whipped around in all directions. His mind was focused on improving himself in order to prevent what happened from ever happening again. He would never let his anger control him again. He couldn't let it.

He leapt into the air, spinning, as he thrust his leg out at an imaginary target. Landing he fell to a knee. His body had still not fully healed, but he couldn't wait around and let his emotions consume him. He groaned rising to his feet and took up his stance again.

'Focus must be maintained,' he could hear in his mind, 'you must find your center and hold tight.'

The words rang out in his mind. It had been many years since he had thought of his instructor. The man who had tamed the raging fires within him. Kai Blackstar.

'Control! You must maintain control!'

The brown haired man didn't notice the pair of eyes watching him as he went through the motions of his kata. The little boy watched the man strike again and again until he suddenly stopped and stood up straight.

"You can come out now," he said.

Mac stepped out from behind the potted plants blushing, "How did you…?"

"Saw your reflection," Chris answered pointing to the large mirror to Mac's side.

Mac huffed and approached the man, "So, what exactly are you doing?"

Chris kicked high, spun to the ground, and swept his leg level with the floor, leaping back to his feet and back into a fighting stance, "Meditating."

"That's no meditation style I've ever heard of," Mac said watching him with wide eyed wonder.

"Maybe not, but its how I do it," he replied diving forward into a roll and leaping up spinning, "besides, it relaxes me and that's really the point," two punches and a kick, "isn't it?"

Mac smiled, "Yeah," he said sitting down.

To be continued…

Sort of abrupt way to end the chapter I know, but I think its okay. The next chapter will be up either today or tomorrow at the latest and the Christmas chapter will definitely be posted on Christmas Eve. Until next time everyone.


	11. The Belief of a Child

Here it is, the last chapter before the big day. Now, last time, Chris and Wilt made a lot of progress. Wilt still has his doubts about himself, Chris will probably never forgive himself for killing Blaze, and nothing that I write or anyone says will ever change that. So, I've been writing from a depressed and angry point of view for those chapters, but now that they've sort of gotten over their issues, I'll be writing more in a happy style. Yay, happy! Okay… so, here it is hope you enjoy it, and please, for the love of God, tell me what you think, please please please! Thank you!

Of Loves Lost & Friends Past

Chapter 11: The Belief of a Child

It was December 19th and all through the house, creatures were stirring and making quite a bit of fuss. It was a typical Foster's Christmas. Right down to everyone running screaming when Eduardo entered a room. For some strange reason the Spanish speaking friend would tie a piece of mistletoe to his horns each year and run around calling himself a kissy monster. If that wasn't bad enough, there were several fake Santa's running around the house.

"Every year it's the same thing," Frankie explained to Mac, leading the jolly old fat men to Mr. Herriman's office. "Kids get so excited about Christmas they accidentally imagine up a couple of Santa's. Oh well."

Mac was stunned. It seemed like every room he walked into had its own Santa Claus and he felt ill from it. He had always been a firm believer in Jolly Old Saint Nick, but now his beliefs were feeling more like foolishness.

"Chris!" Mac yelled running through the house to the older friend's room. "Chris!"

The brown haired man panicked throwing things into his desk drawers and slamming them shut, "Jeez, Mac, haven't you ever heard of knocking?"

"Chris, is Santa Claus real?" the boy asked desperately.

"What?" Chris replied in dull tone.

"There's all these Santa's running around Foster's and and I…" the boy stopped, trying to catch his breath.

"Mac," Chris said softly picking the boy up and setting him down on his desk, "Is that what's bothering you?"

The boy looked up puzzled.

"I see," he continued, "Look, Madame Foster's better at explaining this than me, but well…" he paused smiling, "I still believe in him."

Mac looked at him in shock, "What?"

"Of course I believe in him, just because you can't see something doesn't mean it's not real. Besides, believing in Santa Claus is part of the fun. I believe in him the same way I believe in God. He's the spirit of Christmas, you know?" Chris explained.

Mac looked down at the ground. In a way he got the answer he wanted, but that form of belief didn't offer any tangible evidence of the Jolly one's existence. With that, Mac leapt down off the desk and walked to the door.

"Hey Mac," Chris said opening his drawer, "Never stop believing, you'll see."

The boy smiled slightly and walked out the door.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - -

Mac walked down the hall thinking about what Chris had told him. Was faith in Santa like faith in God? It didn't make much sense to him, but then again neither did religion. He needed to know what everyone else thought. Maybe they could offer up some proof that Santa was real.

He started with Wilt and Eduardo. While they both believed they didn't have any new evidence to offer. More so, they couldn't explain why they believed, they just did. Coco wasn't around to offer an answer.

Next he asked Frankie what she thought. Her answer was anything but what he wanted to hear.

"Sorry Mac, but I just don't believe in him," she explained while mixing another batch of cookies. "There's just never been enough proof to show me that he's real, and besides that I found out that my parents were the ones who put presents from Santa under the tree."

Mac bowed his head. What was he going to do? What if Frankie was right? What if it was just his mom who put Santa's presents under the tree? The sudden thought of her made it hard to stay calm, but he managed to change the subject before he got too depressed. He had to focus on his own plight right now.

"Here have a cookie," Frankie said offering the boy a piping hot chocolate chip cookie, "and if you see "Santa" tell him I want magical self cleaning toilets."

The boy nodded as he left the kitchen. The odds were starting to stack against him.

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The answers were the same everywhere he went. Some believed, some didn't, and there were hundreds of reasons why. It just didn't make sense to the boy. Everyone had a different reason for his or her belief, but no one could offer any proof of his existence or lack thereof. Finally it all came down to just one person to ask…Madame Foster.

The little old lady was sitting in her cushioned chair sipping her cup of hot cocoa. She spun in her chair to face Mac as he entered her private study.

"So you've finally made it to me, huh?" she asked warmly.

Mac looked up with a sad face, "Well you're the only person I haven't asked. Madame Foster, do you believe in Santa Claus?"

"Mac, deary it doesn't matter what I believe. But I know what you're going through. You see every child that celebrates Christmas goes through it at one time or another. Your parents did, your grandparents did, my Frankie did, even I did. Unfortunately, it seems to be a rite of passage for young people, but don't you worry. It may seem bad now, but you will feel fine about it soon, it's only a matter of time before the truth makes it self clear," she explained laughing.

"But Madame Foster, you didn't answer my question," the boy pleaded.

"Ah, but you see, I did. You'll see, Mac, just you wait," she told him as he left.

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Chris and Frankie stood at the railing above the main hall and watched the boy as he walked by the Christmas tree. It worried them to see a boy who was so normally full of life to be so depressed.

"Hey you know what we should do?" Frankie asked him.

"If you're thinking what I think you're thinking then the answer's no," he replied facing her.

"Oh come on, it would really perk him up," she said with a smile, "besides just because I don't believe in Santa doesn't mean I don't think he's cute."

Chris grimaced at that, "You want me dress up as Santa Claus and visit Mac? Don't you think he'll see through it? I mean come on, he's not as gullible as I was, he'll know it's me."

"Maybe he will, maybe he won't, but you know what, I guarantee all the other kids in the house would love to see Santa," she told him bringing her face close to his. "And who knows, maybe it'll bring him around."

Chris thought about it, trying desperately not to look into Frankie's big pouty puppy eyes, "Fine I'll do it."

"Really?" she asked ecstatic.

"If it'll cheer him up, sure," he answered, "But I'm only doing it this once."

Frankie smiled deviously as she dragged him to her room to draw up the plans for his costume.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," he said grumbling.

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December 20th was a slow day. Mac went about his usual routine, played with Bloo and the others, talked with Frankie and Chris, but he had a certain air around him. He was different and it was as plainly obvious as the nose on his face.

"Mac? You okay?" Bloo asked worriedly.

"Yeah, I suppose. I mean, it really is stupid to believe in something like Santa Claus. I guess it was just too good to be true," the boy responded.

"I can't believe you said that!" Bloo said grabbing Mac by the collar, "Santa just has to be real! Otherwise I'm only getting one present!"

"Grow up Bloo and don't be so selfish," Mac told him storming off.

The little blue blob was speechless. How could his creator, one of the most imaginative kids on the planet, not believe in the power of Santa? He wouldn't accept that. He was going to prove that Santa Claus was real if he had to find the old elf himself and drag him before Mac to do it.

"Yeah that would show him, now if only I had his address," he said making a list of ways to prove Santa's existence.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - -

"Ow! Hey!" Chris yelled.

"Sorry hon," Frankie apologized prying the pin out his pants, "It slipped, I swear."

"Uh huh," he said looking up, "Why am I doing this again?"

"You're doing it to help Mac and to spread a little cheer," she told him.

"Well I was just sort of thinking," he said scratching his cheek, "Why not just have one of the imaginary Santa's do this?"

Frankie continued to sew his costume together, "First, because all of the other Santa's have been loaned out or adopted, second, you know all of the friends in the house, they don't, and third and most importantly, you know how to talk to Mac."

Chris thought about it for a minute before huffing and bowing his head with a sigh, "Yeah I guess you're right."

"I know I am, now hold still or I'll stick you again," she joked.

Chris turned his head to the window and looked out to see Mac throwing snowballs at a tree. He hoped this worked for Mac's sake.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - -

Bloo finished printing the last page when Wilt walked into the copy room. He was stunned when he saw the stack of papers the little friend had printed out.

"Bloo! Are you crazy?" Wilt stammered.

"What? Oh all this?" he asked innocently, "It's just to prove to Mac that Santa's real."

"Oh, okay, but w-wait a minute, why did you need to print all of this out?" Wilt asked.

"It seemed like the right thing to do, besides Mac wanted tangible proof and he can hold this in his hands can't he?" Bloo explained.

"I suppose you're right," the lanky friend agreed, "Need a hand?"

"Sure," Bloo replied handing the three hundred fifty page print out to Wilt. "I even emailed the old man to ask for his help, he said he'd be by on Christmas Eve to make things right."

Wilt smiled at that. If this didn't prove to Mac that Santa Claus was real, nothing would.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - -

"Ehh, I feel ridiculous," Chris moaned wearing the completed Santa outfit.

It was form fitting except for the gut which hung out over his big black belt. For something that was whipped together in less than a day, he looked very convincing.

"Maybe, but you look good," Frankie said stifling a laugh.

"Just give me the beard and get a mirror," he snapped.

This wouldn't be easy, he hated having to act, but then again he'd hate to see Mac depressed on Christmas even more.

"Here you go," Frankie said handing the fake white beard to him and then lifting a mirror up.

"Well then," he said straightening the beard, "Ho ho ho."

Frankie burst out laughing. Chris' face turned so bright red, she could see his cheeks through the beard.

"I'm sorry," she said through a laugh, "That was just so pathetic, ha ha ha!"

"I will get you for this," he said straightening himself out, "Okay, let's try this again…" he added, clearing his throat, "Ho Ho Ho!"

He sounded much better, more convincing, and Frankie immediately stopped laughing.

"That's great, I think you hit it right on the head. Think you can keep it up?" she asked searching for a big sack.

"Yeah I think so," he answered rubbing his throat, "I just hope I don't lose my voice. Oh yeah, what am I giving them?"

"You can't give them their presents, they'll open them and there won't be anything for them on Christmas Day, so I was thinking maybe some candy," she answered.

"Yeah, I guess that'll be okay, but what do I tell them?"

"Tell them your just here for a quick visit and their presents will be under the tree in the morning," she explained making it sound easy.

"Okay, then that's it, we're all set," he said pulling Frankie close, "Now how 'bout a kiss for old St. Nick?"

"Take the beard off first."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - -

Mac yawned. Bloo had been showing him page after page of 'evidence' for two hours now.

"Bloo this doesn't prove anything," the boy said standing up. "If you find real proof, like say, oh I don't know…him! Then you come tell me, I'm going to bed."

"Mac! Oh come on, don't be like this," the blob pleaded.

The boy was already half way up the stairs and not stopping.

"Great, now I gotta wait until Christmas Eve to prove he's real," he whined, crossing his arms.

"What's that, Bloo?" Chris asked holding the remains of one of Frankie's cookies.

"I was just trying to prove to Mac that Santa exists," he moaned collecting the papers scattered about the dining room table.

Chris finished the cookie and helped the blob gather up the rest of the papers, "Don't worry Bloo, he'll see, this Christmas is going to be very different."

"Yeah I guess so," Bloo finished, carrying the papers away.

"G'night Bloo," Chris called.

"Night," he responded.

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Mac tossed and turned in his bed. It was approaching midnight and he still couldn't get to sleep. Everything that Bloo had shown him, well, it didn't really prove that Santa existed, but then again it didn't prove that he doesn't exist. He huffed as he rolled onto his back and looked up at the ceiling.

"Santa?" he said out loud, but careful not to wake Bloo, "Look, I don't know if you're real or not, but…I don't know. I just wish there was some way you could give me a sign. Something that proves you're real. Maybe you could give me something like maybe…something that no one else in the whole wide world would be able to give me. But what?"

The boy talked for an hour trying to decide on a sign that Santa could give him to prove his existence until finally, he decided.

"I know what I want," he said, "One of the bells from your sleigh. That's all I want, just one of your bells. Please, this is my last chance and I really, really want to believe. Please…" he finished slipping into his dreams.

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On the other side of the house Frankie and Chris lay in his bed snuggling.

"You're sure no one will find it?" he asked.

From her position on his chest she looked up, "It's in a special case attached to the bottom of my bed, no one would ever think to look there."

"Great," he said with a smile.

"Here's hoping this works, 'Santa'," she chuckled as he leaned in to kiss her.

The pair was quickly asleep dreaming of the big day. They were in for a big surprise.

To be continued…

What'd you think? I know, I know a little bit of character assassination in there, but just wait until the next chapter. Yeah, I borrowed from the Lost Claus episode, but it was just perfect and the exact thing I needed. Anyway, the last chapter will be posted on Christmas Eve, this I swear to you. Check in around noon-ish. So until then, good night.


	12. A Magical Christmas

And here it is! That's right ladies and gentlemen, the long awaited Christmas chapter is finally here. So enough from me, on with the story!

Of Loves Lost & Friends Past

Chapter 12: A Magical Christmas

**December 24**

Frankie woke up in Chris' empty bed. Beside her sat a rose and a note. She smiled warmly, rising out of bed, and walking over to the window. There he was, wrapped in a thick blue coat, shoveling the walkway leading up to the door. He seemed cheery despite knowing what he had to do later that evening.

"I await your performance, handsome," she said getting ready for the day.

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Mac walked through the halls of Foster's in search of hope. Tomorrow he would finally discover whether or not Santa Claus was real. He could feel his heart quicken in anticipation and dread. What if it turned out the elf was a fake? What would he do? Well, he'd go on with life, but he'd know that he'd believed in a lie for years.

"Come on, Santa, show me what you got," Mac said, stopping at a large window to see Chris finishing up the walk way.

'Never stop believing,' Mac thought, 'That's what he said.'

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Madame Foster hummed happily as she wrapped the ribbon around the small box. She believed she had found the perfect gift for Mac. This would knock him out of his slump, she thought. It was a good thing the gift arrived the day before, otherwise she wouldn't have been able to give it to him on time.

"Merry Christmas, Mac," she said as she wrote in his card, "Welcome to the family."

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Chris stepped through the door and shook himself off. The snow fell all around him leaving big puddles.

"I hope you don't expect me to clean that up," came a familiar voice.

Smirking he turned, "Good morning to you too, Beautiful."

She walked up to him, planted a kiss on his cheek and helped him take off his coat.

"How could you leave me, half naked, in your bed to go shovel the sidewalk?" she asked sarcastically.

"I didn't want Herriman to knock on my door and wake you up, so I got up early to do it," he explained, "I was hoping I could sneak back in before you woke up."

She leaned in to kiss him again. He really was always thinking of her. With that the pair walked to the kitchen to start breakfast.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Eduardo and Wilt ran around the track once more. The lanky friend had to slow his pace in order for the burly monster to keep up.

"You okay, Ed?" Wilt asked with a smile.

"Si," he answered huffing and puffing, "I am fine."

Wilt chuckled, slowing down even more. As they ran along at a slow pace another runner came flying past them, practically leaving them in her dust. It was Coco.

"Man, that girl has got a lot of energy!" Wilt declared wide eyed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Bloo sat happily staring out the window, "Tonight's the night," he sang, "I'm gonna get…lot's of presents! Hmph, and Mac will see that Santa is real."

The blob bobbed his head back and forth humming his made up song. It was just eleven hours until the big guy made his arrival and Bloo couldn't wait. Of course he realized he'd have to find some way of keeping himself occupied until then so he grabbed the phone off his nightstand and dialed the number of an old friend.

"Hhhhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii, Bloo," the voice said.

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Breakfast went off without a hitch. Frankie and Chris had made pancakes, eggs, and bacon. As usual there was nothing left except to do the dishes. The young lovers laughed as they went through with the chore. Each excited to give the other their gift.

'I think I've finally got something that'll surprise him!' Frankie thought washing the soap off the last dish.

Chris accepted it, drying it off and then placing it in the cupboard, "So, when do you think "You-know-who" should make his appearance?"

Frankie grabbed his hands and led him out of the kitchen, "I don't know, nine-ish?"

"I guess that's fine," he replied, "I still can't believe I'm doing this, though."

They entered the living room and sat down on the couch positioning themselves so Frankie was lying on his chest, "I think you look cute in the costume," she teased.

"Great, I look cute," he retorted in a dry tone, "but I guess it'll be worth it to see Mac smile again."

"Mmm, yeah," she added smiling.

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There was a knock at the door, but before Frankie or Chris could get it Bloo came running down the stairs, screaming that it was for him. Watching, almost scared as to what the little blob was bringing into the house, the pair watched him from around the corner.

"Who do you think it is?" Chris asked.

"Knowing Bloo," Frankie answered worriedly, "It could be anyone or anything."

A tall, dark skinned girl with three dreadlocks sticking up in the air entered the house with Bloo snuggled tightly in a hug. She wore yellow rain boots and a denim skirt with rainbow colored sleeves.

"Say, isn't that…" Chris started to say.

"Goo!" Frankie declared walking out to greet the girl.

"Hey Frankie," Goo said hugging the red haired woman.

Chris was confused.

"Uh, hi Goo," he said nervously, not sure what to do.

"Chris! You're home!" she said leaping into his arms, "I missed you so much!"

Frankie watched the man. He was absolutely bewildered. What was he missing here?

"A few months ago, Mac helped Goo learn some restraint when it came to imaginary friends," she explained.

Chris held Goo's hands as she walked up his legs and hung in the air, "Well that explains a lot."

The last time he had been home, Goo wasn't allowed to be inside the house or anywhere near him. Everyone was afraid she'd create another twenty versions of him.

"So, I guess you're here for a reason?" he asked.

Laughing as she flipped down to the ground and started dancing with Bloo, "Yeah I'm spending Christmas Eve with you guys!"

The two adults looked at each other and then back at the hyper active girl as she danced with the blob.

"What about your parents?" Frankie asked.

"Oh, they don't mind," she answered twirling around.

"Great…" Chris added.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Mac ran happily through the woods. Seeing Goo again had really lifted his spirits. Inside the house, Wilt sat happily with Coco and Eduardo, watching TV. The other friends in the house went about with their own activities, talking, reading, playing. Frankie and Chris were up on the roof looking out over the city at all the lights and decorations. In her private study, Madame Foster sat with Mr. Herriman going over a list of activities for later that night. Neither were aware of Frankie and Chris' intentions, but no one knew of Bloo's correspondence with a certain jolly old elf.

"Hey Maaaaaaaaacccccccccccc," Goo called.

The boy turned just in time to be nailed with a snowball. He was laid out on the ground staring up at the sky. He had missed spending so much time with her.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?" she asked grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him up.

The snowball clung to the side of his head as he looked up at her, "Yeah I'm fine."

"Sorry, Mac," she added lifting him to his feet, "I didn't mean to hit you so hard."

The boy dusted himself off, straightened his hat, and then turned to her, "Its okay, really, but…"

Goo looked nervous, "But…?"

Mac leapt at her, tackling her to the ground. Laughter rang out through the forest as they tickled each other. Nearby Bloo watched the two and smiled warmly. He was greedy and he was selfish, but he cared deeply about Mac. He had made the right call to bring Goo over.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The sun started to set around 4:55 pm. Goo and Mac had gone back inside to warm up, Frankie and Chris were in the kitchen with Wilt, preparing dinner, Bloo sat with Eduardo and Coco watching TV, and the other friends were anxiously awaiting their meal. Every Christmas Frankie made her family's specialty. It was a special kind of soup called Swiss Gruyere. The soup was a mix of cheese and potato soup, but Frankie always added an extra ingredient that made her version the best. However, she never revealed what it was, being sure to add it only when no one was around.

Bloo paced back and forth behind the couch in the TV room. Only four more hours, he kept telling himself. Mac had become his usual cheery self, but when he saw that Santa was real, he'd be blown away. Just four more hours.

"So Frankie," Chris asked slicing a loaf of bread, "Are you ever gonna tell me what the secret ingredient is?"

The red head hummed as she continued to stir, "Nope, never."

"Come on, you've told me practically everything, but that, why not?" he pleaded.

"Because it's a special ingredient that only the women of my family know," she explained.

"Uh huh," he replied, "I guess everyone has their secrets."

She leaned over and kissed his cheek, "Yup, but not too many secrets."

The pair thought about the things they had been through together. Not just recently, but since they had first met. Everything they had seen, the places they had gone, the things they had done. Life was never dull with them around.

"Okay guys," Frankie announced, "Soup's almost ready, let's start serving the rest of the meal."

Wilt and Chris both grabbed big trays filled with pork, bread, and drinks and exited through the doors to set the table.

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At the head of the table sat Madame Foster. On either side sat Frankie and Mr. Herriman. Then came Chris, Wilt, Coco, Eduardo, Mac, Goo, and Bloo. The dining hall was a little more than half full as the group began to eat. Since Thanksgiving, many friends had been adopted. It brought a tear to Madame Foster's eye when she thought about it. She was happy for the friends, but at the same time sad because she wouldn't get to see them for a while.

As they ate, the friends traded stories of Christmas' past. Some told of Christmas in Hawaii while others told of it in Germany. There were stories of gifts, jokes about what the friends used to do to celebrate, and more. They were truly a family despite all the obvious differences in them.

After dinner it was decided they would watch a Christmas movie or two and then they'd be in bed by 10:30 at the latest. It was 8:00 when they sat down to watch "A Charlie Brown Christmas". Frankie and Chris carefully excluded themselves from watching claiming they had some work to do.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Bloo teased.

The pair walked to Frankie's room hand in hand. This was it, they were about to spring their surprise on Mac.

"I hope this works," Chris said stepping into her room.

"You're not the only one," Frankie replied lifting the skirt of her bed up. "Oh no…" she suddenly said in horror.

Chris spun, "What? What is it?"

"The costume…" she started to say.

"Yeah, yeah, the costume," he added.

"It's gone…"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Bloo sat watching the forty year old movie and yawned. 8:30. It was just thirty minutes until the big show. Over the movie he heard Frankie talking to herself as she rummaged through the hall closet.

"Hey Frankie," the blob said happily.

She leapt into the air in surprise, "What costume? I wasn't doing anything!"

"Okay, time to start drinking decaf," he told her.

Her breathing was heavy, "What do you want Bloo?" she asked shutting the closet door.

"Nothing, just wanted to know what you're doing," he answered.

"Oh me?" she asked in an innocent tone, "I'm not doing anything…"

"Frankie I can't find it," Chris blurted out entering the room and skidding to a stop.

Everyone heard that, "Can't find what?" several asked in unison

"Oh boy," was all he could say.

Frankie had to think fast, there was no way they could easily explain this, "We were just uh…just looking for…"

"Just looking for what?" Bloo asked.

"Ho Ho Ho!" a loud voice rang out through the house.

"What the…?" Frankie yelled spinning to face the chimney.

There were sounds of something or someone coming down and then suddenly there was a thud and a plume of black smoke filled the room. A man stepped out through the smoke. He was oddly familiar and raised a lot of eyebrows.

"No way!" Frankie said in surprise.

"It…i-its…" Chris added, backing away.

"Santa Claus!" Bloo yelled happily.

The room filled with cheer as the big man dressed in red stepped in. Frankie couldn't believe her eyes, she wouldn't, there was no way he was real.

"I'm real, Frankie," he said looking back at her with a smile.

The friends crowded around him asking questions, reaching out to touch him, and demanding presents. Everyone except Mac. The boy sat on the couch watching them act like little kids and hmphed. He wasn't fooled, he thought. Why would Santa come so early on Christmas Eve to visit them?

"Mac, what's wrong?" Goo asked.

The crowd of friends backed away as the jolly old man stepped forward to the center of the room allowing everyone to get a truly good look at him. He was five foot eleven with a big belly that jiggled like a bowl full of jelly. His nose was big and red, surrounded by his big white beard and mustache. He wore his traditional white and red suit, but his hat had something that no other Santa in the world had. On the white surrounding the rim of the hat was a green S.C. anagram.

"Mac?" the man asked calling out to the boy.

He spun in surprise. How did he know his name? Was it possible? No, he had to just be someone from the house, didn't he?

"I heard you were having a crisis of faith," Santa said. "I got an email from a friend of yours who was very worried. I'm here to prove that I am very much real."

Mac looked at him disbelievingly, "And just how do you intend to do that?"

"You'll see my boy, you'll see," Santa told him turning back to face the others. "I have presents here for all the good little boys and girls. Unfortunately I couldn't fit everyone's presents in here on this load, but rest assured, when you wake up in the morning they will be here, I promise."

Once more the room filled with cheer as the fat elf walked back to the chimney and pulled down a big green sack held closed by a red pull string. He opened it up revealing presents in all shapes, sizes, and colors. He reached in and grabbed the first present and then read the tag aloud. A small green, dog like imaginary friend came running up through the crowds. She danced and sang as she tore the wrapping paper away to reveal a stuffed animal. The little friend lunged at Santa hugging him as tight as she could before running back through the crowds to play with her new toy.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The man calling himself Santa Claus continued handing out presents to all the imaginary baby friends and all the other young friends until there were only two presents left. One for Frankie and the other for Mac.

"Well, Frankie, I think you should open this right now," he said handing it to her.

The red head was still questioning him, not wanting to jump to any conclusions, but as she peeled back the wrapping paper she saw something that she never thought she'd ever see again. It was a bracelet. Just a simple gold chain with star hanging from it, but it was much more than that. Many years ago, back when she and Chris were eight, she had lost the bracelet on a camping trip. They had searched high and low for it, never able to find it. That year, she asked Santa Claus to find it for her. That also happened to be the last year she believed in Santa Claus.

"How'd I do?" Santa asked her with a smile.

A single tear ran down her cheek as she pulled him into a tight hug, "It's wonderful…"

"I'm glad you like it," he told her reaching into his sack and pulling out the last gift.

"Mac?" he called to the boy, "This is yours."

Shrugging, Mac walked up to him and accepted it as politely as he could, pausing before he opened it. He looked at the present and then back up at Santa, with a spark of hope.

"Its not gonna open it self, Mac," Chris said jokingly.

Mac carefully opened the wrapping paper to find a brown box. On the box was written, 'Never Stop Believing', in big bold letters. The boy pulled the top off the box and almost dropped it when he looked inside. His heart was beating so fast everyone in the room could hear it as he lifted a shiny piece of metal out.

"I hope this answers your question," Santa said confidently.

Mac held the bell in his hand and smiled as big as he could, "Oh thank you!" he yelled hugging the big man dressed in red.

"Anytime, son," he replied. "Well, I'm all done for right now, but I will be back as soon as I restock. I don't expect to find anyone awake when I get back, so I'll say this now…Merry Christmas and to all a good night!" And with that the man put his finger on the tip of his nose and winked. There was a flash as he disappeared up the chimney leaving everyone stunned.

There was a rattling nose as something heavy lifted up and off the roof and then at the window a silhouette could be seen passing in front of the moon.

He had really been there.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Mac held the bell tightly in his grasp as Chris carried him in his arms. The little boy had fallen asleep watching the rest of the movie. The excitement had been to much for him. At their side was Frankie. She too held her present. She couldn't believe it. Her bracelet had been missing for twelve years and now…

"Wow," she said.

"I told you he was real," Chris replied happily.

"Yes, yes you did," was all she could say as they placed the boy in his bed. "Good night, Mac," she said placing a small kiss on his forehead.

The pair then walked back to Chris' room and prepared for bed, "Looks like things worked out for the best, huh?" Chris asked.

Hanging tightly on his arm, "Yeah."

She was still speechless. The fact that Santa existed had taken her breath away. And now, she had something that would forever prove his existence anytime she started to doubt it. The pair slipped into bed and fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms.

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**Christmas Day**

Mac walked down the stairs, still dressed in his pajamas and holding the bell. It had not once left his sight since he awoke. His eyes went wide when he saw all the presents sitting around the tree. All the friends were searching for their own, while at the same time trading presents with each other. At the foot of the tree sat his favorite friends.

Chris reached back and pulled out a familiar black box as Mac walked up. The boy smiled as Chris gave Frankie the present. The red head screamed in excitement leaping at him and pulling him into a passionate kiss.

"I guess that means she likes it," Mac said drawing their attention.

"Merry Christmas Mac," the group said in unison.

In Chris' lap sat a thick, hard cover book with the Name Jim Lee inscribed on it, Wilt was spinning a new basketball on the tip of his finger, Eduardo was cuddled up with several new beanie buddies, Coco had a roll of bubble wrap and a new bottle of liquid bubbles, and Bloo…well he had two things. A new paddleball and a lump of coal with a note attached. It read, 'You deserved coal, but by reviving the spirit of Christmas you proved that you have the potential to be good. I hope you can be good for next year.'

"Who does he think he's kidding?" Bloo asked smugly, "Of course I can be good!"

Mac laughed looking at all the friends and their new presents. He had gotten a very special present that year. New friends, a new family, and now, proof, real tangible proof that Santa Claus was real.

"Mac," Madame Foster called from behind.

He turned as she gave him a manila envelope that read Merry Christmas Mac, From Madame Foster and Sasha Gorden.

"What is it?" he asked.

"You'll have to open it to find out," she told him.

Inside the boy found a piece of paper that was an official adoption document and read Mac Foster, making him Madame Foster's official grandson.

"Are you sure…?" he asked anxiously.

Madame…His grandmother pulled him into a hug, "Welcome to the family honey."

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Christmas Day was a major event within the Foster's house and this year was one of the best. The friends played happily with their new presents while others watched their new movies, and others still shined their new skis and so on and so on. Mac sat between Chris and Frankie playing the X-Box 360 the pair had chipped in on to get him. The three of them laughed as he crashed his car in Project Gotham Racing.

Wilt and Coco passed his basketball back and forth while Eduardo watched nervously, ready to dive for cover if the ball came his way. And watching the group closely was Madame Foster. She had watched them all grow into fine young people and friends and she was happy she had a chance to know them and love them.

Now it was her turn to relax, but before she could retire to her study to enjoy some warm tea with Mr. Herriman, Mac ran up to her.

"Madame Foster!" he called, "You were right."

The old woman smiled and rested her hand on his shoulder, "I told you everything would make itself clear in time."

Mac smiled as she walked away, "Merry Christmas!"

The End

Finally! Its done. Okay, so I don't think this is my best work, but I don't know what everyone else thinks so I'll just leave it to you to decide. In any event Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, and Happy Kwanza to everyone out there. I hope you all enjoyed this romp through the holidays and will come back for more. I'm currently working on a sequel, but I don't know when it will be ready to post. Until then, later everybody!


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